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As witter, by IV I L L I A M CO NG R E FE . 



Regulated from the Pi onipt- Book, 


By Mr. HOPKIN S, Prompter. 
Aud'ire eft opei tse prtt\um> prdcedere rtSfe 

Qui mcecbis non t.-u/tis. Ho*« fat. ?. 1. T. 

-' • Meluat doti defrenja ft* > »• 

L N D N: 
Printed for, John Bsli, near Extter.g&ba&ge, irt tke Srr*W, 


[ $ 1 


To the Right Honourable 



My Lord, 

WHETHER the world will arraign me of vanity or 
not, that I have prefumed to dedicate this come- 
dy to your Lordfliip, I am yet in doubt ; though it may 
be it is fome degree of vanity even to doubt of it. One 
who has at any time had the honour of your Lordfliip's 
converfation, cannot be fuppofed to think very meanly or 
that which he would prefer to your perufal : yet it were 
to incur the imputation of too much fufticiency, to pre- 
tend to fuch a merit as might abide the tell of your Lord- 
fliip's cenfure. 

Whatever value may be wanting to this play while it is 
mine, will be fufficiently made up to it, when it is once 
become your Lordfliip's : and it is my fecurity, that I 
cannot have over-rated it more by my dedication, than 
your Lordfliip will dignify it by your patronage. 

That it fucceeded on the ftage, was almoft beyond my 
expectation ; for but little of it was prepared for that ge- 
neral taile which feems now to be predominant in the pa- 
lates of our audience. 

Thofe characters which are meant to- be ridiculed in 
moft of our comedies, are of fools fo grofs, that, in my 
humble opinion, they fliould rather dilturb than divert 
the well-natured and reflecting part of an audience ; they 
are rather objects of charity than contempt ; and inftead 
of moving our mirth, they ought very often to excite our 

A 2 This 

[ 4 ] 

- This reflection moved me to defign fome characters, 
which mould appear ridiculous, not fo much through a 
natural folly (which is incorrigible, and therefore not 
proper for the ftage) as through an affected wit; a witf 
which, at the fame time that it is affected, is alfo falfe. 
As there is fome difficulty in the formation of a character 
of this nature, fo there is fome hazard which attends the 
progrefs of its fuccefs upon the ftage ; for many come to 
a play, fo over-charged with criticifm, that they very of- 
ten let fly their cenfure, when, through their rafhnefs, 
they have miftaken their aim. This I had cccafion, lately, 
toobierve; for this play had been acted two or three 
days, before fome of thefe hairy judges could find the let- 
fure to diftinguifh betwixt the character of a Witwoud 
and a Truewit. 

I mult beg your Lordfnip's pardon for this digrelfion 
from the true courfe of this epiftle ; but that it may not 
teem altogether impertinent, I beg that I may plead the 
occafionoi it, in part of that excufe of which I lland in 
nted, for recommending this comedy to your protection. 
It is only by the countenance of your Lordlhip, and the 
few fo qualified, that fuch who write with care nnd pain3 
can hope to be diilinguifhed a for the proili tuted name of 
poet, promilcuoufly levels ail that bear it. 

Terence, the moil correct writer in the world, had a 
Scipioand a Lelius, if not to affiithim, at leait tofupport 
him in his reputation : and, notwithstanding his extraor- 
dinary merit, it may be, their countenance was not more 
than neceifary. 

The purity of his (tile, the delicacy of his turns, and 
the juftnefs of his characters, were all of them beauties, 
which the greater part of his audience were incapable of 
tailing. Some of the coarfefl flrokes of Plautus, fo fe- 
verely cenfured by Horace, were more likely to affect the 
multitude ; fuch who come with expectation to laugh at 
the lad act of a play, and are better entertained with two 
or three unfeafonable jells, than with the artful folution 
of the fable. 

As Terence excelled in his performances, fo had he 
great advantages to encourage his undertakings ; for he 
built mofl on the foundations of Menander : his plots 
were generally modelled, and his characters ready drawn 
to his hand. He copied Menander j and Menander had 

[ 5 1 

no lefs light in the formation of his characters, from the 
obfervations of Theophraltus, of whom he was a difciple ; 
and Theophraltus, it is known, was not only the difciple, 
but the immediate fuccelfor of Ariitotle, the firft and 
greateft judge of poetry. Thefe were great models to 
deiign by ; and'the further advantage which Terence 
pofiefTed, towards giving his plays the due ornaments of 
purity of ftile, and juitncfsof manners, was not lefs con- 
siderable, from the freedom of converfation which was 
permitted him with Lelius and Scipio, two of the greateft 
and molt polite men of his age. And, indeed, the privi- 
lege of inch a converfation, is the only certain means of 
attaining to the perfection of dialogue. 

If it has happened in any part of this comedy, that I 
have gained a turn of Itile, or expreffion more correct, or 
at lean: more corrigible, than in thofe which I have for- 
merly written, I muft, with equal pride and gratitude, 
afcribe it to the honour-of your Lordfhip's admitting me 
into your converfation, and that of a fociety where every 
body elfe was fo well worthy of you, in your retirement, 
laft fummer, from the town ; for it was immediately af- 
ter that this comedy was written. If I have failed in my 
performance, it is only to be regretted, where there were 
■fo many, not inferior either to a Scipio or a Lelius, that 
that there mould be one wanting equal in capacity to a 

If I am not miftaken, poetry is almoft the only art 
which has not yet laid claim to your Lordihip's patronage. 
Architecture and painting, to the great honour of our 
country, have flourifned under your influence and pro- 
tection. In the mean time, Poetry, the eldeft filter of all 
arts, and parent of molt, feernstohave refigned her birth- 
right, by having neglected to pay her duty to your Lord- 
mip ; and by permitting others of a later extraction to 
prepolfefs that place in your efteem, to which none can 
pretend a better title. Poetry, in its nature, is facred to 
the good and great ; the relation between them is reci- 
procal, and they are ever propitious to it. It is the pri- 
vilege of poetry to addrefs to them, and it is their prero- 
gative alone to give it protection. 

This received maxim is a general apology for all wri- 
ters who confecrate their labours to great men ; but I 
A 3 could 

[ 6 J 

could wifh, at this time, that this addrefs were exempted 
from the common pretence of all dedications; and as I 
can diftinguifh your Lordfhip even among the mod de- 
ferving, lb this offering might become remarkable by 
fome pafticular instance of refpee~t, which fhould allure 
your Lordfhip, that lam, with all due fenfe of your ex- 
treme worthinefs and humanity, 

My Lord, 

Your Lordlhip r s mofl obedient, 
And moft obliged humble fervant, 



t 7 1 

T O 



C O M E D Y, 



WHEN" pleafure's falling to the low delight, 
In vain the joys of the uncertain light ; 
No fenfe of wit when rude fpeclators know, 
But in diftorted gefture, farce and {how : 
How could, great author, your afpiring mind 
Dare to write only to the few refin'd ; 
Yet tho' that nice ambition you purfue, 
Tis not in Congreve's power to pleafe but few* 
Implicitly devoted to his fame, 
Well-drefs'd barbarians know his awful name ; 
Tho' fenfelefs they're of mirth, but when they laugh, 
As they feel wine, but when till drunk, they quaff- 
On you, from fate, a lavifli portion fell, 
In ev'ry way of writing to excel. 
Your mufeapplaufe to Arabella brings, 
In notes as fweet as Arabella rings. 
Whene'er you draw an undiflembled woe, 
With fweet diftrefs your rural numbers flow* 
Paftora's the complaint of ev'ry fwain, 
Paftora Hill the echo of the plain ! 
Or if your mufe defcribe, with warming force, 
The wounded Frenchman falling from his horfe ; 


[ 8 ] 

And her own William glorious in the flrife, 
Bellowing on the proftrate foe his life : 
You the great act as gen'roufly rehearfe, 
And all the Englifh fury's in your verfe. 
By your felected fcenes, and handfome choice, 
Ennobled Comedy exalts her voice ; 
You check unjufl efteem, and fond defire, 
And teach to fcorn what elfe we mould admire ; 
The juil impreffion taught by you we bear. 
The player acts the world, the world the play'r; 
Whom ltill that world unjuftly difefteems, 
Tho' he, alone, profeiTes what he feems : 
But when your mufe affumes her tragic part, 
She conquers and (he reigns in ev'ry heart ; 
To mourn with her men cheat their private woe. 
And gen'rous pity's all the grief they know. 
The widow, who impatient of delay, 
From the town-joys mufl malk it to the play, 
Joins with your Mourning Bride's refiuiefs moan, 
And weeps a lofs fhe flighted, when her own. 
You give us torment, and you give us eafe, 
And vary our afflictions as you pleafe. 
Is not a heart fo kind as yours in pain, 
To load your friends with cares you only feign ; 
Your friends in grief, compos'd yourfelf, to leave ? 
But 'tis the only way you'll e'er deceive. 
Then ltill, great Sir, your moving pow'r employ, 
To lull ourlbrrow, and correct our joy. 



[ 9 1 


Z^F tbofe few fools who ivitb ill Jlars are curfl, 

Sure fcribhl'mg fools, called poets, fare the worft ; 
For they're a fet of fools which Fortune makes, 
And after fhe has made them fools, forfakes. 
With Nature's oafs 'tis quite a different cafe, 
For Fortune favours all her ideot-race ; 
Jn her own nefi the cuckoo-eggs we find, 
O'er which Jhe broods to hatch the changeling-kind^ 
No portion for her own fhe has to fparc, 
Ho much fhe doats on her adopted care. 

Poets arc bubbles, by the town drawn in, 
Suffer' d at firfl fome trifling flakes to win : 
But what unequal hazards do they run ! 
Each -time they write, they venture all they've won : 
The 'fjuire that's butter* d flill^ is fure to be undone. 
This 'author, heretofore, has found your favour j 
But pleads no merit from his pafi behaviour. 
To build on that might prove a vain prefumption, 
Should grants, to poets made, admit refumption : 
And in Farnaffus he mufl lofe his feat, 
If that be found a forfeited eflate. 

He owns with toil he wrought the following fcenes ; 
But if they're naught, ne'er f pare him for his pains ; 
Damn him the more ; have no commiferation 
For dulnefs on mature deliberation. 
He fwears he'll not rcfent one hifs'd-off fcene, 
Nor, like tbofe pecvify wits, his play maintain, 
Who, to offer t their fenfe, your tafte arraign. 
Some plot we think he has, and fome new thought j 
Some humour too, no farce ; but that's- a fault. 
Satire, he thinks, you ought not to expecJ ; 
For fo reform'd a town, who dares corrcSt ? 
To plcafe, this time, has teen his fole pretence ; 
He'll not inflrudl, lefl it Jhould give offence. 
Should he, by chance, a knave or fool cxpofe, 
That hurts none here — fure here are none of tbofe. 
In fhort, our play fly all ( with your leave to fhew it ) 
Give you one inflance of a paffive poet, 
Who to your judgments yields all rcfgnatio)f % 
To fave or damn, after your own difcrction t 

[ 10 ] 



Fainall, in love with 

Mrs. Marwood, Mr. Reddifh. 
Mirabell, in love with 

Mrs. Millamant, Mr. Smith. 

Mr. King. 
Mr. Baddeley. 


Mr. Wroughton. 

Mr. Lewis. 

Mr. Lee Lewes, 
Mr. Woodward. 

Petulant, \ ™° 

Sir Wilful Wdwoud, 
half brother to Wit- 
ivoud, and nephew 

to Lady mfbforu Mr. Yates. Mr. Dunftall. 

Waitvoelly fervant to 

MirabeU } Mr. Parfons. Mr. Wilfoju 


Lady Wijhfort, ene- 
my to Mirabell, for 
having falfely pre- 
tended love to her, Mrs. Hopkins. Mrs. Pitt. 

Mrs. Millamant, a 
fine lady, niece to 
Lady V/iJbfort, and 
loves Mhabell, Mrs. Abington. 

Mrs. Mar*LvoodJnti\& 
to Mr. Fainall, and 
likes MirabclL Mifs Sherry. 

Mrs. Fainall, daugh- 
ter to Lady Wijb- 
fort, and wife to 
Fainall, Mrs. Greville. 

Foible, woman to La- 
dy WiJJj/ort, Mifs Pope. 

Mincing, woman to 
Mrs Millamant, 

Mrs. Barrf. 
Mrs. Mattocks, 

Mrs. Whitencld. 
Mrs. Green. 
Mrs. Pouffin. 

Mifs Piatt. 
Dancers, Footmen, and Attendants. 
The Time ecjual to that of the Prefentation 


[ t. ] 



* # * tbe lines diftinguifhed by inverted comas, ' thus,'' are omitted in the 
Reprefentation, and tbofe printed in Italics are tbe additions of 
tbe 'Theatre, 

SCENE I. A Cbocolate-houfe. 
Mirabell and Fainall \rtfing from cards] Betty waiting* 

M I R A B E l l. 

YOU are a fortunate man, Mr. Fainall. 
Fain, Have we done ? 
Mir a. What you pleafe. I'll play on to entertain you. 
Fain. No, I'll give you your revenge another time, 
when you are not fo indfferent ; you are thinking of 
fomething elfe now, and play too negligently ; the cotd- 
nefs of a lofing gamefter, leflens the pleafure of the win- 
ner. I'd no more play with a man that flighted his ill for- 
tune, than I'd make love to a woman who undervalued the 
lofs of her reputation. 

Mir a. You have a tafte extremely delicate, and are for 
refining your pleafures. 

Fain, Pr'ythee, why fo referv'd ? Something has put 
you out of humour. 

Mira, Not at all : I happen to be grave to-day ; and 
you are gay ; that's all. 

Fain, Confefs, Millamant and you quarrell'd laft night, 
after I left you ; my fair coulin has fome humours that 
would tempt the patience of a ftoick. What, fome cox- 
comb came in, and was well received by her, while you 
were by. 

Mira, Witwpud and Petulant ; and what was worfe, 
2 her 


her aunt, your wife's mother, my evil genius; or to 
fum up all in her own name, my old lady Wifhfort came 

Fain. O there it is then She has a lading paflion 

for you, and with reafon What, then my wife was 


Mira. Yes, and Mrs. Marwood, and three or four 
more, whom I never faw before ; feeing me, they all 
put on their grave faces, whifper'd one another ; then 
complain'd aloud of the vapours, and after fell into a pro- 
found filence. 

Fain. They had a mind to be rid of you. 

Mira. For which reafon I refolv'd not to ftir. At laft 
the good old lady broke through her painful taciturnity, 
with an invective againft long vifits. I would not have 
imderftood her, but Millamant joining in rhe argument, 
I rofe, and with a conftrakied fmile told her, I thought 
nothing was fo eafy as to know when a vific began to be 
troublefome ; fne reddened and I withdrew, without ex- 
pecting her reply. 

Fain. You were to blame to refem what Hie fpoke on- 
ly in compliance with her aunt. 

Mira. She is more miltrds of herfelf than to be under 
the neceffityof fuch refignation. 

Fain, What ! tho' half her fortune depends upon her 
marrying with my lady's approbation ? 

Mira. I was then in fuch a humour, that I fliould 
have been better pleafed if ft,e had been lefs difcreet. 

Fain. Now I remember, I wonder not they were 
weary of you j laft night was one of their cabal nights ; 
they have them three times a week, and meet by turns, 
at one another's apartments, where they come together 
like the coroner's inqueft, to lie upon the murder' d reputa- 
tions of the week» Yeu and I are excluded ; and it was 
once propofed that all the male fex mould be excepted ; 
butfomebody moved, that to avoid fcandal, there might 
he one man of the community ; upon which motion Wit- 
wood and Petulant were enrolled members. 

Mira, And who may have been the foundrefs of thi-s 
-feet ? My Lady Wifhfort, I warrant, who publifhes her 
<deteftation of mankind} and full of the vigour of iilty- 



five, declares for a friend and ratafia ; and let pofterity 
fhift for itfelf, (he'll breed no more. 

Fain. The difco very of your (ham addrelTes to her, to 
conceal you love to her niece, has provoked this repara- 
tion : had you diflembled better, things might have con- 
tinued in the ftate of nature. 

Mira. I did as much as man could, with any reafon- 
able confcience ; I proceeded to the very laft afifc of flat- 
tery with her, and was guilry of a fong in her commen- 
dation. Nay, I got a friend to put her into a lampoon, 
and compliment her with the imputation of an affair with 
a young fellow, which I carried fo far, that I told her the 
malicious town took notice that file was grown fat of a fud- 
den ; and when file lay in of a dropfy, perfuaded her lhe 
was reported to be in labour. The devil's in't if an old 
woman is to be flattered farther, unlefs a man mould en- 
deavour downright perfonally to debauch her; and that 
my virtue forbade me. But for the difcovery of this 
amour, I am indebted to your friend, or your wife's 
friend, Mrs. Marwoqd. 

Fain. What ftiould provoke her to be your enemy, un- 
lefs lhe has made you advances which you have flighted ? 
Women do not ealily forgive omiffions of that nature. 

Mir a. She was always civil to me, till of late ; I con- 
fels lam not one of thofe coxcombs who are apt to inter- 
pret a woman's good manners to her prejudice ; and think 
that file who does not refufe 'em ev'ry thing, can refule 
'em nothing. 

Fain. You are a gallant man, Mirabell ; and tho* you 
may have cruelty enough not to fatisfy a lady's long- 
ing ; you have too" much generality, not to be tender of 
her honour. Yet you ipeak with an indifference which 
ieems to be affected ; and confelfes you are confeious of a 

Mira. You purfue the argument with a diftruft that 
feemstobe unaffected, andconfefs you are confeious of 
a concern for which the lady is more indebted to you, than 
is your wife. 

Fain. Fy, fy, friend, if you grow cenforious, I muft 

leave you I'll look upon the gameftcrs in the next 


Mira. Who are they ? 

B f a ; fU 



Fain, Petulant and Witwood— Bring me fome choco- 
late - [Exit. 

Mira, Betty, what fays our clock ? 

Bet. Turn'd of the laft canonical hour, Sir. 

Mir a. How pertinently the jade anfwers me ! Ha ! 
almoft one o'clock! [Looking on his watch] Oh, v'are 

Enter Footman. 

Mira. Well j is the grand affair over? You have been 
fomething tedious. 

Sa v. Sir, there's fuch coupling at Pancras, that they 
%nq behind one another, as 'twere in a country dance. 
Ours was the laft couple to lead up ; and no hopes ap- 
pearing of difpatch, befides, the parfon growing hoarfe, 
we were afraid his lungs would have failed before it came 
to our turn ; fp we drove round to Duke's Place ; and 
there they were rivetted in a trice. 

Mira, So, fa, you are fure they are married. 

Serv. Married and bedded, Sir : I am witnefs. 

Mira, Have you the certificate ? 

8et&. Here it is, bir. 

* Mira, Has the Taylor brought WaitwelPs clothes 
4 home, and the new liveries ? 
4 Serv. Yes, Sir.' 

Mira. That's w r ell. Do you go home again, d'ye hear, 
and adjourn the confummation 'till farther order; bid 
Waitwell fliake his ears, and dame Partlet ruftle up her 
feathers, and meet me at one o'clock by Rolamond's 
pond ; that I may fee her before (he returns to her lady : 
and, as you tender your ears, be fecret. [Exit Footman. 
Enter Fainall, 

Tain. Joy of your fuccefs, Mirabell ; you look pleas'd. 

Mira, Ay ; 1 have been engaged in a matter of fome 
fort of mirth, which is not yet ripe for difcovery. Iam 
glad this is not a cabal-night. I wonder, Fainall, that 
you who are married, and of confequence mould be dif- 
creet, will fuffer your wife to be of fuch a party. 

Fain, Faith, I am not jealous. Befides, moft who are 
engaged, are women and relations ; and for the men, 
they are of a kind too contemptible to give fcandal. 

Mira. I am of another opinion. The gi eater the cox- 
comb } aUvays the mere the fcandal: for a woman who is not 

a fool, 


a fool, can have but one reafon for aflbciating with a man 
who is one. 

rain. Are you jealous as often as you fee Witwoud en- 
tertained by Millamant ? 

Mir a. Of her undemanding I am, if not of her per- 

Fain. You do her wrong ; for to give her her due, flie 
has wit. 

Mira. She has beauty enough to make any man think 
fo ; and complaifance enough not to contradict him who 
mall tell her fo. 

Fain. For a paffionate lover, methinks you are a man 
fomewhat too difcerning in the failings of your miurefs. 

Mira. And for a difcerning man, fomewhat too paf- 
fionate a lover ; for I like her with all her faults ; nay 
like her for her faults. Her follies are fo natural, or lb 
artful, that they become her ; and thofe affectations which 
in another woman would be odious, ferve but to make her 
more agreeable. I'll tell thee, Fainall, fhe once ufed me 
with that infolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces ; 
fifted her, and feparated her failings ; ■ I ftudied 'em and 
' got 'em by rote. The catalogue was fo large, that I 

* was not without hopes, one day or other, to hate her 
' heartily : to which end I fo ufed myfelf to think of 'em-,. 

* that at length, contrary to my defign and expectation, 
4 they gave me every hour lefs and lefs dhturbance; 'till 
' in a few days it became habitual to me, to remember 

* 'em without being difpleas'd.' They are now grown as 
familiar to me as my own frailties ; and in all probability 
in a little time longer, I mall like 'em as well. 

Faith Marry her, marry her ; be half as well acquaint- 
ed with her charms, as you are with her defects, and my 
lite on't you are your own man again. 

Mira. Say you fo ? 

Fain. I, I, I have experience ; I have a wife, and fo 

Enter a MerTenger. 
Metf. Is one fquire Witwoud here ? 
Bet. Yes ; what's your buunefs ? 
Mejf^ I have a letter for him, from his brother Sir Wil- 
ful, which I am charged to deliver into his own hands. 

Bet. He's in the next room, friend That way. 

[Exit Mzffenger. 
B 2 Mira. 


Mir a. What, is the chief of that noble family in town, 
Sir Wilful Witwoud ? 

Fain, He is expected to-day. Do you know him ? 

Mir a, I have feen him, he promifes to be an extraordi- 
nary perfon; I think you have the honour to be related to 

Fain. Yes ; he is half brother to this Witwoud by a 
former wife, who was Mer to my Lady Wifiifort, my 
wife's mother. If you marry Millamant, you mufl call 
coufins too. 

Mira. I had rather be his relation than his acquain- 

Fain, He conies to town in order to equip himfelf for 

Mira. For travel ! Why the man that I mean is above 

Fain. No matter for that ; 'tis for the honour of Eng- 
land, that all Europe mould know we have blockheads of 
all ages. 

Mira, I wonder there is not an aft of parliament to 
fave the credit of the nation, and prohibit the exporta- 
tion of fools. 

Fain. By no means, 'tis better as 'tis; 'tis better to 
trade with a little lofs, than to be quite eaten up with 
being overftocked. 

Mira. Pray, are the follies of this knight-errant, and 
thofe of the fquire his brother, any thing related ? 

Fain, Not at all ; Witwoud grows by the knight, like 
a medlar grafted on a crab. One will melt in your 
mouth, and t'other fet your teeth on edge ; one is all 
pulp, and the other all core. 

* Mira. So one will be rotten before he be ripe, and 
* the other will be rotten without ever being ripe at all.' 

Fain. Sir Wilful is an odd mixture of baflifulnefs and 
obflinacy. — But when he's drunk, he's as loving as the 
monfter in theTempeft; and much after the fame manner. 
To give t'other his due, he has ibme thing of good-na- 
ture, and does not always want wit. 

Mira, Not always ; but as often as his memory fails 
him, and his common-place of comparifons. He is a 
fool with a good memory, and fome few fcraps of other 


folk's wit. He is one, whofe converfation can never be 
approved, yet it is now and then to endured. He has 
indeed one good quality, he is not exceptious ; ' for he 
1 fo paffionately afledts the reputation of underftanding 
' raillery, that he will conitrue an affront into a jeft ; and 
' call downright rudenefs and ill language, fatire and 
* fire.' 

Fain. If you have a mind to finifh his picture, you 
have an opportunity to do it at full length. Behold the 

Enter Witwoud. 
Wit. Afford me your companion, my dears ; pity me, 
Fainall ; Mirabell, pity me. 
Mira. I do froimny foul. 
Fain. Why, what's the matter? . 
Wit, No letters for me, Betty ? 

Bet. Did not a meflenger bring you one but now, Sir ? 
Wit. Ay, but no other ? 
Bet. No, Sir. 

Wit. That's hard, that's very hard A meflenger, 

a mule, a beaft of burden, he has brought me a letter 
from the fool my brother, as heavy as a panegyric in a 
funeral fermon, or a copy of commendatory verfes from 
one poet to another; and what's vvorfe, 'tis as fure a. 
forerunner of the author, as an epiftle dedicatory. 

Mira. A fool, and your brother, Witwoud! 

Wit. Ay, ay, my half brother, my half brother; he 
is no nearer, upon honour* 

Mira. Then 'tis poffible he may be but half a foul. 

Wit. Good, good,, Mirabell, le drole ! Good, good ; 
hang him, don't let's talk of him. — Fainall, how does 
your lady ? Gad, 1 fay any thing in the world to get 
this fellow out of my head. I beg pardon that I mould 
afk a man of pleafure, and the town, a queftion at once 
fo foreign and domeitic. But I talk like an old maid at 
a mani.ige ; 1 don't know what I fay : but Ifie's the beft 
woman in the world. 

Vain. Tis well you don't know what you fay, or elfe 
your commendation would go near to make me either 
vain or jealous. 

Wit. No man in town lives well with a wife but- 
Fainail. Your judgment, Mirabell? 

B 3 Mira,. 


Mira. You had better (rep and alk his wife, if you 
would be credibly informed. 
Wit. Mirabell. 
Mira. Ay. 

Wit. My dear, I afk ten thoufand pardons : Gad 

I have forgot what I was going to fay to you. 

Mir. I thank you heartily, heartily. 

Wit. No, but pr'ythee excufe me, — my memory is 
fuch a memory. 

Mira. Have a care of fuch apologies, Witwoud ; — 
for I never knew a fool but he affected to complain, 
either of the fpleen or his memory. 

Fain. What have you done with Petulant ? 

Wit. He's reckoning his money, — my money it was 
I have no luck to-day. 

Fain. You may allow him to win of you at play ;-— 
for you are fure to be too hard for him at repartee : 
fince you monopolize the wit that is between you, the 
fortune muit be his of courfe. 

Mira. I don't find that Petulant confefles the fuperio- 
rity of wit to be your talent, Witwoud. 

Wit. Come, come, you are malicious now, and would 
breed debates— -Petulant's my friend, and a very ho- 
neft fellow, and a very pretty fellow, and has a fmatter- 

ing Faith and troth, a pretty deal of an odd fort of 

a fmall wit : nay, I'll do him juftice. I'm his friend, I 

won't wrong him And if he had any judgment in 

the world, — he would not be altogether contemptible. 
Come, come, don't detract from the merits of my friend. 

Fain. You don't take your friend to be over-nicelybred. 

Wit. No, no, hang him, the rogue has no manners 

at all, that I muit own No more breeding than a 

bum-baily, that I grant you— ^'Tis pity ; the fellow 
has fire and life. 

Mira. What, courage ? 

Wit. Hum, faith I don't know as to that,. — I can*t fay 

as to that Yes, faith, in controverfy, he'll contradict 

any body. 

Mira. Though 'twere a man whom he feared, or a wo- 
man whom he loved. 

\ Wit. Well, well, he does not always think before he 
fpeaks ;— we have all our failings : you are too hard upon 

- him, 


him, you are faith. Le; me excufe him, 1 can de- 
fend moil of his faults, except one or two : one he has, 
that's the truth on't ; if he we re my brother, I could 
not acquit him — That indeed I could wiih were other- 

Mira. Ay, marry ; what's that, Witwoud ? 

Wit. Oh, pardon me Expofe the infirmities of my 

friend. — No, my dear, excufe me there. 

f; Fain* What I warrant he's infincere, or 'tis fome fuch 


Wit, No, no, what if he be ? 'Tis no matter for that, 
his wit will excufe that : a wit fliould no more be fin- 
cere, than a woman conftant ; one argues a decay of 
parts, as t'other of beauty. 

Mira. May be you think him too pofitive ? 

Wit. No, no, his being pofnive is an incentive to ar- 
gument, and keeps up converfation. 

Fain. Too illiterate. 

Wit. That, that's his happinefs — His want of learn- 
ing gives him the more opportunity to fhew his natural 

Mira. He wants words. 

Wit. Ay; but I like him for that now; for his want 
of words gives me the pleafure very often to explain his 

Fain. He's impudent. 

Wit. No, that's not it. 

Mira. Vain. 

Wit. No. 

Mira. What, hefpeaks unfeafonable truths fometimes,. 
becaufe he has not wit enough to invent an evafion. 

Wit. Truths ! Ha, ha, ha ! No, no; fince you will 
have it — I mean, he never fpeaks truth at all — that's all. 
He will lie like a chamberbaid,, or a woman of quality's 
porter. Now that is a fault. 

Enter Coachman. 

Coach. Is matter Petulant here, miftrefs? 

Bet. Yes. 

Coach. Three gentlewomen in a coach would fpeak- 
with him. 

Fain* Oh, brave Petulant ! Three! 


Bet. I'll tell him. [Exit. 

4 Coach. You muft bring two difhes of chocolate and 
' a glafs of cinnamon-water. [E*ti. 

4 Wit. That Ihould be fur two falling ftrumpets, and a 
' bawd troubled with wind. Now you may know w hat 
4 the three are. 

* Mira. You are very free with your friend's acquaint- 

* ance. 

Wit. * Ay, ay, friendthip without freedom is as dull as 

* love without enjoyment, or wine without toafting ; 
4 but to tell you a feeret,' thefe are trulls whom he al- 
lows coach hire, and fomething more, by the week, to 
call on him once a day at public places. 

Mira. How ! 

Wit. You mall fee he won't go to 'em, becaufe there's 

no more company here to take notice of him. Why 

this is nothing to what he ufed to do : — before he found 
out. this way, I have known him call for himfclf 

Fain. Call for himfelf ! What doll thou mean ? 

Wit. Mean ! why he would Hip you out of this cho- 
colate-houfe, juft when you had been talking to him— 
As foon as your back was turned — whip he was gone ; 
—-then trip to his lodgings clap on a hood and fcarr, and 
a malk, flap into a hackney-coach, and drive hither to 
the door again in a trice ; where he would fend in for 
himfelf; that is, I mean, call for himfelf, wait for 
himfelf; nay, and what's more, not finding himfelf, 
fometimes leave a letter for himfelf. 

Mira. I confefs this is fomething extraordinary 1 

believe he waits for himfelf now, he is fo long a coming : 
Oh, I afk his pardon. 

Enter Betty. 

Bet. Sir, the coach flays. 

Enter Petulant. 

Pet. Well, well ; I come ; — 'Sbud, a man had as good : 
be a profeifed midwife, as a profefTed whoremalter, at 
this rate ; to be knocked up, and raifed at all hours, and 
in all places. Pox on them, I won't come — D'ye hear, 

tell them I won't come Let them fnivel and cry their 

hearts out. 

Fain. You are very cruel, Petulant. 

Pet. All's one, let it pafs 1 have a humour to 

be cruel. 3 Mira* . 



Mir a, I hope they are not perfons of condition that 
you ufe at this rate. 

Pet, Condition ! condition's a dried fig, if I am not in 

humour 4 By this hand, if they were your— a — a 

' — your what-dee-call-'ems themfelves, they muft wait 

* or rub off, if I want appetite. 

* Mira, What-dee-call-'ems ! What are they, Wit- 

* woud? 

4 Wit, EmprefTes, my dear By your what-dee- 

* call-'ems, he means Sultana queens. 
1 Pet, Ay, Roxana's. 

4 Mira, Cry your mercy. 

4 Fain, Witwoud fays they are 

4 Pet, What does he fay they are ? 

• Wit, I ! fine ladies, I fay. 

4 Pet, Pafs on, Witwoud Harkee, by this light 

4 his relations — Two co-heireffes his coufins, and an old 
4 aunt, who loves catterwauling better than a conven- 
4 tide. 

4 Wit, Ha, ha, ha ! I had a mind to fee how the rogue 
4 would come off — Ha, ha, ha ! gad, I can't be angry 
4 with him, if he had faid they were my mother and my 
4 filters. 

4 Mira, No. 

4 Wit, No j the rogue's wit and readinefs ofinven- 
4 tion charm me ; dear Petulant.' 

Bet. They are gone, Sir, in great anger. 

Pet. Enough, let them trundle. Anger helps com- 
plexion, laves paint. 

Vain. This continence is all difTembled ; this is in or- 
der to have fomething to brag of the next time he makes 
court to Millamant, and fvvear he has abandoned the 
whole lex for her fake. 

Mira. Have you not left off your impudent prctenlion 
there yet ? I (hall cut your throat, fome time or other, 
Petulant, about that bulinefs. 

Pet. Ay, ay, let that pafs There are other throats 

to be cut 

Mira, Meaning mine, Sir ? 

Pet. Not I — I mean nobody — I know nothing 

But there are uncles and nephews in the world— and they 
may be rivals— What then, ail's one for that— 




Mira. Now, harkee, Petulant, come hither — Explain, 
or I fhall call your interpreter. 

Pet. Explain j I know nothing — Why you have an 
uncle, have you not, lately come to town, and lodges by 
my lady Wifh fort's ? 

Mir a. True. 

Pet. Why, that's enough — You and he are not friends ; 
and if he mould marry and have a child, you may be 
•difinherited, ha r" 

Mira. Where haft thou ftumbled upon all this truth ? 

Pet. All's one for that ; why then fay I know fome- 

Mira, Come, thou artanhoneft fellow, Petulant, and 
(halt make love to -my rniftrefs, thou fha't, faith. What 
haft thou heard of my uncle ? 

Pet. I ! nothing I. If throats are to be cut, let fwords 
clam ; fnug's the word, I fhrug and am filent. 

Mira. Oh, raillery, raillery. Come, I know thou art 

in the women's fecrets What, you're a cabalift; I 

know you ftaid at Millamant's laft night, after I went. 
Was there any mention made of my uncle, or me? Tell 
me. If thou hadft but good -nature equal to thy wit, 
Petulant, Tony Witwoud, who is now thy competitor in 
fame, would fliew as dim by thee as a dead whiting's eye 
by a pearl of orient ; he would no more be feen by thee, 
than Mercury is by the fun. Come, I'm fure thou wo't 
tell me. 

Pet. If I do, w ill you grant me common fenfe then, 

for the future ? 

Mira, Faith, I'll do what I can for thee, and I'll pray 
that Heaven may grant it thee in the mean time. 

Pet. Well, hark'ee. 

Fain. Petulant and you both will find Mirabell as warm 
a rival as a lover. 

JVi't. Plha, pflia, that me laughs at Petulant is plain. 
And for my part — But that it is almoft a fafhion to ad- 
mire her, I mould — Harkee — To tell you a fecret, but 
let it go no farther — Between friends, I lhall never break 
my heart for her. 

Fain. How ! 

Wit, She's handfome ; but file's a fort of an uncertain 



Fain. I thought you had died for her. 

Wit. Umph — No 

Fain. She has wit. 

Wit. 'Tis what me will hardly allow any body elfe— - 
Now, demme, I mould hate that, if flie were as handfome 
as Cleopatra. Mirabell is not fo fure of her as he thinks 

Fain. Why do you think fo ? 

Wit. We ftaid pretty late there lafl night ; and heard 
fomething of an uncle to Mirabell, who is lately come 
to town, — and is between him and the bell part of his 
eilate; Mirabell and he are at fome diitance, as my lady 
Wimfort has been told ; and you know (he hates Mira- 
bell worfe than a Quaker hates a parrot, or than a fiih- 
monger hates a hard frolt. Whether this uncle has 
feen Mrs. Millamant or not, I cannot fay ; but there 
were items of fuch a treaty being in embryo ; and if it 
fliould come to life, poor Mirabell would be in fome fort 
unfortunately fobbed, i'faith. 

Fain. 'Tis impoiflble Millamant mould hearken to it. 

Wit. Faith, my dear, I can't tell; fhe's a woman, 
and a kind of a humouriil. 

Mira. And this is the fum of what you could collect 
lail night. 

Pet. The quinteffence. May be Witwoud knows more, 

he flayed longer Befides, they never mind him ; they 

fay any thing before him. 

Mira. I thought you had been the greateft. favourite. 

Pet. Ay, tete-a-tete ; but not in public, becaufe I make 

Mira. You do ? 

Pet. Ay, ay ; pox, I'm malicious, man. Now he's 

foft, you know j they are not in awe of him The 

fellow's well bred ; he's what you call a 'What- 
dee-call-'em, a fine genileman : but he's filly withal. 

Mira. I thank you, I know as much as my curiolity 
requires. Fainall, are you for the Mall ? 

Fain. Ay, I'll take a turn before dinner. 

Wit. Ay, we'll all walk in the park ; the ladles talked 
of being there. 

Mira. I thought you were obliged to watch for your 
brother, Sir Willful's arrival. 



Wit. No, no ; he comes to his aunt's, my lady Wim- 
fort : pox on him, I (hall be troubled with him too ; 
what fhall I do with the fool ? 

Pet. Beg him for his eftate, that I may beg you after- 
wards ; and fo have but one trouble with you both. 

Wit. Oh, rare Petulant ; thou art as quick as fire in a 
frofty morning ; thou (halt to the Mall with us, and 
we'll be very fevere. 

Pet. Enough, I'm in a humour to be fevere. 

Mir a. Are you ? Pray then walk by yourfelves — Let 
not us be accefiary to your putting the ladies out of coun- 
tenance with your fenlelefs ribaldry, which you roar out 
aloud as often as they pafs by you ; and when you have 
made a handfome woman blufh, then you think you have 
been fevere. 

Pet. What, what? Then let them either fiiew their 
innocence by not underftanding what they hear, or elfe 
fhew their difcretioij by not hearing what they would not 
be thought to under (land. 

Mira. But haft not thou then fenfe enough to know- 
that thou-otighteft to be moil amamed thyfelf, when thou 
haft put another out of countenance ? 

Pet. Not I, by this hand 1 always take blufli- 

ing either for a fign of guilt or ill breeding. 

Mira. I confefs you ought to think fo. You are in 
the right, that you may plead the error of your judg- 
ment in defence of your practice. 

Where modefty's ill-manners, f ts but fit 
That impudence and malice pafs for wit. 
End of the First Act. 


SCENE, St. James's Pari, 
Mrs. Fainall and Mrs. Marwood. 

Mrs. Fainall. 

AY, ay, dear Marwood, if we will be happy, we mud 
find the means in ourfelves, and among ourfelves. 
Men are ever in extremes ; either doating, or avetfe. 
While they are lover3, if they have fire and fenfe, their 



jealoufies are infupportable : and when they ccife to love 
(we ought to think at leall) rhey loathe ; they look upon, 
us with horror and diftafte ; they meet us like the ghofts 
of what we were, and as from fuch, fly from us. 

Mrs. Mar. True, 'tis an unhappy circumftance of life, 
that love mould ever die before us ; and that the man fo 
often mould outlive the lover. But lay what you will, 
'tis better to be left than never to have been lov'd. To 
pafs our youth in dull indifference, to refufe the fweets 
of life, becaufe they once muft leave us, is as prepoftc- 
rous, as to wifli to have been born old, becaufe we one 
day muft be old. For my part, my youth may wear and 
wafte, but it (hall never ruft in my poifeffion. 

Mrs. tain. Then it feems you dilfemble an averfion to 
mankind, only incompliance to my mother's humour. 

Mrs. Mar, Certainly. To be free ; I have no tafteof 
thofe iniipid dry difcourfes, with which our lex of force 
muft entertain themfelves, apart from men. We may 
affecl endearments to each other, profefs eternal friend- 
(hips, and feem to doat like lovers ; but 'tis not in our 
natures long to perfevere. Love will refume his empire 
in our brealts, and every heart, or foon or late, receive 
and re-admit him as its lawful tyrant. 

Mn. Fain. Blefs me, how have I been deceived ! 
Why you profefs a libertine. 

Mrs. Mar. You fee my friendfhip by my freedom. 
Come, be as Sincere, acknowledge that your feniiments 
agree with mine. 

Mrs. Fain. Never. 

Mrs. Mar. You hate mankind ? 

Mrs. Fain. Heartily, inveteratelv. 

Mrs. Mar. Your hulband ? 

Mrs. Fain. Mo ft tranfcendently ; av, though I fay it, 

Mrs. Mar. Give me your hand upon it. 
Mrs, Fain. 'J 'he re. 

Mrs. Mar. I join with you ; what 1 have faid has been, 
to try you. 

Mrs. Fain. Is it poffible ? Doft thou hate thofe viper*, 
men ? 

Mrs, Mar, I have done hating 'em, and am now con e 
C to 


to defpife 'em ; the next thing I have to do, is erernally 
to forget 'em. 

Mrs. Fain, There fpoke the fpirit of an Amazon, a 
Pen then lea. 

Mrs. Mar. And yet I am thinking fometimes to carry 

my averfion farther. 
Mrs. Fain. How ? 

Mrs. Mar. Faith, by marrying; * if I could but find 
' one that loved me very well, and would be thoroughly 

* fenfiblc of ill ufage, I think I mould do my felt the 

* violence of undergoing th'e ceremony. 

* Mrs, Fain. You would not make him a cuckold? 

1 Mrs. Mar, No; but I'd make him believe I did, and 

* that's as bad. 

4 Mrs. Fain, Why had you not as good do it ? 

* Mrs. Mar. Oh, if he mould ever difcover it, he ■ 
4 would then know the worft, and be out of his pain ; 

* but I would have him ever to continue upon the rack of 

* fear and jealoufy. 

* Mrs. Fain. Ingenious mifchief !' Would thou weit 
married to MirabelT. 

Mrs. Mar. Would I were. 
Mrs. Fain. You change colour. 
Mrs. Mar. Becaufe I hate him. 

Mrs. Fain. So do I ; but I can hear him named. But 
what reafon have you to hate him in particular ? 

Mrs. Mar. I never loved him ; he is, and always was, 
infuflerably proud. 

1 Mrs. Fain. By the reafon you give for your averfion, 
one would think it diflembled ; for you have laid a fault 
to his charge, of which his enemies muft acquit him. 

Mrs. Mar. Oh, then it feems you are one of his favour- 
able enemies. Methinks you look a little pale, and now 
you flufh again. 

Mrs. Fain. Do I ? I think I am a little fick o' the fud- 

Mrs. War. What ails you? 

Mrs. Fain, My hulband. Don't you fee him ? He 
turned fliort upon me unawares, and has almoft overcome 

Enter Fainall and Mirabell. 
Mrs, Mar. Ha, ha, ha ! he comes opportunely for you. 



Mrs. Fain. For you, for he has brought Mirabell with 

Fain, My dear. 

Mrs. Fain. My foul. 

Fain* You don't look well to-day, child. 

Mrs. Fain. D'ye think fo ? 

Mira. He's the only man that does, Madam. 

Mrs. Fain. The only man that would tell me fo at 
leaft ; and the only man from whom I could hear it 
without mortification. 

Fain. Oh, my dear, I am fatisned of your tender- 
nefs : I know you cannot re fen t any thing from me; 
efpecially what is an erfect of my concern. 

Mrs. Fain. Mr. Mirabell, my mother interrupted you 
in a pleafant relation la'ft night, I would fain hear it out. 

Mira. The perfons concerned in that affair, have yet 

a tolerable reputation* 1 am afraid Mr. Fainall will 

be cenforious. 

Mrs. Fain. He has a humour more prevailing than 
his curiofity, and will willingly difpenfe with the hear- 
ing of one fcandalous ftory, to avoid giving an occaiion 
to make another, by being feen to walk wih his wife. 
This way, Mr. Mirabell, ;;nd I dare promife you will 
oblige us both. [Exeunt ■Mira. and Mrs. Fain. 

Fain, Excellent creature ! Well, fure if I fhould live 
to be rid of my wife, I fliould be a miferable man. 

Mrs. Mar, Ay^ ? 

Fain. For having only that one hope, the aecomplifh- 
ment of it, of confequence, mull put an end to all my 
hopes ; and what a wretch is he who muft furvive his 
hopes ! Nothing remains, when that day comes, but to fit 
down and weep like Alexander, when he wanted other 
worlds to conquer. 

Mrs. Mar. Will you not follow them. 

Fain. Faith, I think not. v 

Mrs. Mar. Pray let us ; I have a reafon* 

Fain. You are not jealous ? 

Mrs. Mar. Of whom ? 

Fain. Of Mirabell. 

Mrs. Mar. If I am, is it inconnftent with my love to 
you, that I am tender of your honour ? 

C 2 Fain, 


Pain. You would intimate then, as if there were a 
fellow-feeling between my wife and him. 

Mrs. Mar. i think (he does not hate him to that de- 
gree file would be thought. 

Fain. But he, I fear, is too infenfible. 

Mrs. Mar. It may be you are deceived. 

Fain. It may be fo. I do not now begin to appre- 
hend it. 

Mrs. Mar. What ? 

Fain. That I have been deceived, Madam, and you 
are falfe. 

Mrs. Mar. That I am falfe ! What mean you ? 

Fain. To let you know, I fee through all your little 
arts — Come, you both love him ; and both have equally 
diiTembled your averfion. Your mutual jealoufies of one 
another, have made you elafli till you have both ftruck 
fire. I have feen the warm con cflion reddening on your 
cheeks, and fparkling from your eyes. 

Mrs, M r. You do me wrong. 

Fa-H. I do not— —'T was for my eafe to overfee and 
wilfully neglect the grofs advances made him by my 
wife; that by permitting her to be engaged, I might 
continue unfufpe&ed in my pleafures ; and take you 
oftener to my arms in full fecurity. But could you think, 
becaufe the nodding hulband would not wake, that e'er 
the watchful lover flept ? 

Mrs. Mar. And wherewithal can you reproach me ? 

Fain. With infidelity, with loving another, with love 
of Mirabel 1. 

Mrs. Mar. 'Tis falfe. I challenge you to mew an in- 
£ance that can confirm your groundlefs accufation. I 
hate him. 

Fain. And wherefore do you hate him ? He is infenfi- 
ble, and your refer.tment "follows his neglect. An in- 
ftance ! The injuries you have done him are a proof: 
\our interpofing in his love. What caufe had you to 
make difcoveries of his pretended paffion ? to undeceive 
the credulous aunt, and be the officious obitacle of his 
march wirh Millamant ? 

Mrs. Mar. My obl ; gations to my lady urged me : I 
had pro tV fled a rriendlhip to her ; and could not fee her 
caiy nature (6 abufed by that diilembler. 



Fain. What, was it conference then ? Profefled a 
friendftiip ! Oh, the pious friendihips of the female lex ! 

Mrs. Mar. More tender, more iincere, and more endu- 
ring, than all the vain and empty vows of men, whether 
profeffing love to us, or mutual faith to one another. 

Fain, Ha, ha, ha ! you are my wife's friend too. 

Mrs. Mar. Shame and ingratitude ! Do you reproach 
me ? You, you, upbraid me ! Have I been falfe to her, 
through itricft fidelity to you, and facrifed my friendfliip 
to keep my love inviolate ? And have you the bafenels 
to charge me with the guilt, unmindful of the merit? 
To you it fliould be meritorious, that I have been vi- 
cious : and do you reflecl that guilt upon me, which 
mould lie buried in your bofom ? 

Fain. You milinterpret my reproof. I meant but to 
remind you of the flight account you once could make 
of ftricteit ties, when let in competition with your love 
to me 

Mrs. Mar. 'Tis falfe, you urged it with deliberate ma- 
lice — ' i'vvas fpoke in fcorn, and I never will forgive it. 

Fain. Your guilt, not your refentment, begets your 
rage. If yet you lovtd, you could forgive a jealoufy : 
but you are ftung to find you are difcovered. 

Mrs. Mar. It fhall be nil drfcovered. You too (hall be 
difcovered ; be lure you fhall. I can but be expoied — 
If I do it myfelf I fhall prevent your ba&ilefs. 

Fain, Why, what will you do ? 

Mrs. Mar. Diieiofe it to your wife j own what has 
pait between us. 
Fain. Frenzy ! 

Mrs. Mar, By all my wrongs 111 do't 111 publifti 

to the world the injuries you have done me, both in my 
fame and fortune : with both I trufted you, you bank- 
rupt, in honour, as indigent of wealth. 

Fain. Your fame 1 have preferved. Your fortune ha$ 
been beftowed as the prodigality of your love would have 
it, in pleafures which we both have mated- Yet, had not 

you been falfe, I had ere this repaid it Tie true 

had you permitted Mirabel! with Millomnnt to have irolen 
their marriage, my lady had been ineenfed beyond all 
means of reconcilement : Millamant had forfeited the 
moiety of her fortune, which then would have defcended 
C j. to 


to my wife ; -and wherefore did I marry, but to make 

lawful prize of a rich widow's wealth, and fqaander it on 
Jove and you ? 

Mrs. Mar, Deceit and frivolous pretence. 

Fain. Death, am I not married ? What's pretence ? 
Am I not imprifoned, fettered ? Have I not a wife ? 
"Nay, a wife that was a widow, a young widow, a hand- 
some widow ; and would be again a widow, but that I 
have a heart of proof, and fomething of a conftitution to 
b'i (tie. through the ways of wedlock, and this world. Will 
'yoii yet be reconciled to truth and me? 

Mrs. Mar. Impoffible ! Truth and you are incontinent 
1 hate you, and fhall for ever. 

Fain. For loving you ? 

Mrs. Mar. I loathe the name oflove after fuch ufage ; 
and next to the guilt with which you would afperfe me, 
I fcorn you moil:. Farewel. 

Fain. Nay$ we mull not part thus. 

Mrs. Mar. Let me go. 

Fain. Come, I'm forry. 

Mrs. Mar. I care not Let me go Break my 

hands, do I'd leave them to get loofe. 

Fain. I would not hurt you for the world. Have I 
no other hold to keep you here ? 

Mrs. Mar. Well, I have deferved it all. 

Fain. You know I love you. 

Mrs. Mar. Poor diflembling ! Oh, that Well, it 

13 not yet 

Fain. What ? What is it not ? What is it not yet ? It 
is not yet too late 

Mrs. Mar. No, it is not yet too late 1 have that 


Fain. It is, to love another. 

Mrs. Mar. But not to loathe, detelt, abhor mankind, 
myfelf, and the whole treacherous world. 

Fain. Nay, this is extravagance — -Come, Iafkyour 

pardon No tears 1 was to blame ; I could not 

love you, and be eafy in my doubts — Pray forbear 

I believe you ; I'm convinced I've done you wrong ; 
and any way, every way will make amends ; I'll 
hate my wife yet more ; damn her, I'll part with her, 
rob her of all ihe's worth, and we'll retire fome where, 




any where, to another world— I'll marry thee— Be paci- 
fied— 'Sdeath, they come ! hide your face, your tears— 
You have a malk, wear it a moment. This way, this 
way, be perfuaded. [Exeunt* 
Enter Mirabel and Mrs. Fainwell. 

Mrs. Fain. They are here yet. 

Mira. They are turning into the other walk. 

Mrs. Fain. While I only hated my hulband, I could 
bear to fee him ; but fince I have defpifed him, he's too 

Mira. Oh, you mould hate with prudence. 

Mrs. Fain. Ye#, for I have loved with indifcretion. 

Mira. You mould have juft fo much difguft for your 
hulband, as may be fufficient to make you relilh your 

Mrs. Fain. You have been the caufe that I have loved 
without bounds, and would you fet limits to that aver- 
sion of which you have been the occafion ? Why did you 
make me marry this man ? 

Mir. * Why do we daily commit difagreeable and dan- 

* gerous a6tions ? To fave that idol reputation. If the 
% familiarities of our loves had produced that confe- 

* quence, of which you were apprehenfive, where could 

* you have fixed a father's name with credit, but on a 

* hulband ? I knew Fainall to be a man lavifli of his mo- 

* rals, an intereifed and profeffing friend, a falfe and a 

* defigning lover ; yet one whofe wit and outward fair 
' behaviour have gained a reputation with the town, 
4 enough to make that woman itand excufed, who has 

* fuffered herfelf to be won by his addrefles. A better 

* man ought not to have been facrificed to the occafion ; 
4 a worfe had not anfwered to the purpofe.' When you 
are weary of him, you know your remedy, 

Mrs. Fain. I ought to lland in fome degree of credit 
with you, Mirabell. 

Mira. * In juifice to you,' I have made you privy to 
my whole delign, and put it in your power to ruin or ad- 
vance my fortune. 

Mrs. Fain. Whom have you inftructed to reprefent 
your pretended uncle ? 

Mira. Waitvvell, my fervant. 

Mrs. Fain. He is an humble fervant to Foible, my mo- 
ther's woman, and may win her to your interefl. 



Mira. Care is taken for that She is won and worn 

by this time. They were married this morning. 
Mrs. Fain. Who ? 

Mira, Waitwell and Foible. I would not tempt my 
fervant to betray me, by trufting him too far. If your 
mother, in hopes to ruin me, mould coni'ent to marry my 
pretended uncle, he might, like Mofca in the Fox, itand 
upon terms, fo I made him fure before-hand. 

Mrs. Fain. So, if my poor mother is caught in a con- 
tract, you will difcover the impofture betimes ; and re- 
leafe her, by producing the certificate of her gallant's for- 
mer marriage. 

M'n a. Yes, upon condition that flie confent to my 
marriage with her niece, and iurrender the moiety of her 
tortui>e in her polfeilion. 

Mrs. Fain. She talk'd laft night of endeavouring at a 
match between Millamant and your uncle. 

Mira. That was by Foible's direction, and my inflruc- 
tion, that fhe might Item to carry it more privately. 

Mrs. Fain. Well, I have an opinion of your fuccefs ; 
for I believe my lady w 11 do any thing to get an huf- 
band ; and when flie Jia's this, which you have provided 
tor her, I luppole Hie will fubmit to any thing to get rid 
of him. 

Mira. Yes, I think the good lady wou\l marry any 
thing that refembled a man, though 'twere no more than 
what a butler could pinch out of a napkin. 

Mrs. Fain. Female frailty ! ' We mult all come to it, 

* if we live to be old, and feel the craving of a falfe ap« 

* petite, when the true is decayed. 

* Mira. An old woman's appeiite is depraved like that 

* of a girl — *Tis the green-iicknefs of a fecond child- 

4 hoed ; and, like the faint offer of a latter fpring, ferves 

* but to uiber in the fall ; and withers in an aftec~ted 
4 bloom. 

4 Mrs. Fain.'' But here's your miftrefs. 
Enter Mrs. Millamant, Witwoud, atui Mincing* 
Mira. Here flie comes i'fnth, full fail, with her fan 
fpread and flreamers out, and a flical of fools for tenders 
Ha, no, I cry her mercy. 
Mrs. Fain. I fee but one poor empty fculler - } and he 
tows her woman after him. 



Mira. You feem to be unattended, Madam, You 

us'd to have, the beau monde throng after you ; and a flock 
of gay fine perukes hovering round you. 

Wit. Like moths about a candle 1 had like to have 

loft my companion for want of breath. 

Milla. O I have deny'd myfelf airs to-day. I have 
walk'das faft through the crowd 

Wit, As a favourite juft diigraced ; and with as few fol- 

Milla. Dear Mr. Witwoud, truce with your fimili- 
tudes : for I am as rick of 'em * 

Wit. Asa phyfician of a good air 1 cannot help it, 

Madam, tho' 'tis againit myfelf. 

Milla. Yet, again ; Mincing, ftand between me and 
his wit. 

Wit, Do, Mrs. Mincing, like a fkreen before a great 
fire. I confefs I do blaze to-day, I am too bright. 

Mrs. fain, But, dear Millamant, why were you fo 
long ? 

Milla, Long ! Lord, have I not made violent hafte ? 
I have alk'dev'ry living thing I met for you j I haveen- 
quir'd after you, as after a new fafhion. 

Wit, Madam, truce with your fimilitudes ■ No, 
you met her hufband, and did not a(k him for her. 

Mira, By your leave, Witwoud, that were like en- 
quiring after an old fafhion, to afk a hufband for his wife. 

Wit, Hum, a hit, a hit, a palpable hit, I confefs it. 

Mrs, Tain, You were dreiTed before I came abroad. 

Milla, Ay, that's true O but then I had >Min- 

cing, what had I ? Why was I fo long ? 

Mine, O, Mem, your Lafliip ftaid toperufe a pacquet 
of letters. 

Milla. O ay, letters — I had letters — I am perfecuted 
with letters — I hate letters — Nobody knows how to write 
letters ; and yet one has 'em one does not know why— 
They ferve one to pin up one's hair. 

Wit. Is that the way ? Pray, Madam, do you pin up 
your hair with all your letters ? I find I muft keep 

M'dla. Only with thofe in verfe, Mr. Witwoud. I 
never pin up my hair with profe. I think I iry'd once, 


34 THE WAY of the world. 

Mine, O, Mem, I fhall never forget it. 

Milla. Ay, poor Mincing tift and ti Ft all the morning. 

Mine 'Till I had the cramp in my fingers, I'll vow, 
Mem, and all to no purpofe. But when your Lafhip 
pins it up with poetry, it fits fo pleafant the next day as 
any thing, and is To pure and ib crips. 

Wit. Indeed ! fo crips ? 

Mine. You're fuch a critic, Mr. Witwoud. 

Milla. Mirabell, did you take exceptions laft night ? 
O ay, and went away — Now I think on't, I'm angry ? — 
No, now I think on't I am pleas'd — For I believe 1 gave 
you fome pain. 

Mira, Does that pleafe you ? ' 

Milla. Infinitely ; I love to give pain. 

Mira. You would affect a cruelty which is not in your 
nature ; your true vanity is in the power of pleafing. 

Milla, O, I alk your pardon for that — One's cruelty 
is one's power, and when one parts with one's cruelty 
one parts with one's power : and when one has parted with 
that, I fancy one's old and ugly. 

Mira, Ay, ay ; fufter your cruelty to s uin the object 
of your power, to deftroy your lover — And then how 
vain, how loft a thing you'il be? Nay, 'tis true : you 
are no longer handfome when you have loft your lover ; 
your beauty dies upon the inftant: for beauty is the lo- 
ver's gift ; 'tis he beftows your charms Your glafs is 

all a cheat. The ugly and the old, whom the louking- 
glafs mortifies, yet after commendation can be flattered 
by it, and difcover beauties in it : for that reflects our 
praifes, rather than your face. 

Milla. O the vanity of thefe men ! Fainall, d'ye hear 
him? If they did not commend us, we were not hand- 
fome ! Now you muft know they could not commend 
one, if one was not handfome. Beauty the lover's gift, 
—•Lord, what is a lover that it can give ? Why one nukes 
lovers as faft as one pleafes, and they live as long as ore 
pleafes, and they die as foon as one pleafes : and then, if 
one pleafes, one makes more. 

Wit. Very pretty. Why you make no more of making 
of lovers, Madam, than of making fo many card- 




Milla. One no more owes one's beauty to a lover, than 
one's wit to an echo : they can but reflect what we look 
and fay; vain empty things, if we are filent or unfeen, 
and want a being. 

Mira. Yet, to thofe two vain empty things, you owe 
too the greater! pleafures of your life. 

Milla. How lb ? 

Mira. To your lover you owe the pleafureof hearing 
yourfelves prais'd • and to an echo the pleafure of hearing 
yourfelves talk. 

Wit. But I know a lady that loves talking fo inceflant- 
ly, (he won't give an echo fair play ; Ihe has that ever- 
lafting rotation of tongue, that an echo mull wait 'till Ihe 
dies, before it can catch her lait words. 

Milla. Ofidion ; Fainall, let us leave thefe men. 

Mira. Draw oft' Witwoud. \Afide to Mrs. Fainall. 

Mrs. Fain. Immediately ; I have a word or two for 
3VIr. Witwoud. [Exeunt Mrs. Fain, and Witwoud. 

Mira. I would beg a little private audience too 
You had the tyranny to deny me lait ivght ; though 
you knew I came to impart a fecret to you that concern 'd 
my love. 

Milla. You faw I was engag'd, 

Mira. Unkind. You had the leifure to entertain a herd 
of fools : things who vifit you from their exceiliv'e idle- 
nefs ; beftowinj on your ealinefs that time, which is the 
incumbrance of their lives. How can you find delight 
in fuch fociety ? It is impoilible they mould admire you, 
they are not capable : or if they were, it fliou'd be to you 
as a mortification ; for Cure to pleafe a fool is fome degree 
of folly. 

Milla. I pleafe myfelf Befides, fometimes to con- 
vene with fools is for my health. 

Mira. Your health ! Is there a worfe difeafe than the 
Gonverfation of fools ? 

Milla. Yes, the vapours; fools are phyfic for it, next 
to ajja foetida. 

Mira. You are in a courfe of fools. 

Milla. Mirabell, if you perfilt in this oftenfive free- 
dom-—— you'll difpleafe me 1 think I mull refolve, 

after all, not to have you We {han't agree. 

Mira. Not in our phyfic it may be. 



Milla, And yet our diftemper in all likelihood will be 
the fame ; for we (hall be fick of one another. I (han't 
endure to be reprimanded, nor initrucled, 'tis fo dull to 
act always by advice, and fo tedious to be told of one's 

faults 1 can't bear it. Well, I won't heveyou Mira- 

bell I'm refolv'd 1 think You may go 

Ha, ha, ha ! What would you give that you could help 
loving me ? 

Mira. I would give fomething that you did not know 
I could not help it. 

Milla. Come, don't look grave then. Well, what do 
you fay to me ? 

Mira, I fay that a man may as foon make a friend by his 
wit, or a fortune by his honefty, as win a woman with 
plain-dealing and fincerity. 

Milla. Sententious Mirabel 1 ! Prithee don't look with 
that violent and inflexible wife face, like Solomon at the 
dividing of the child in an old tapeilry hanging. 

Mira. You are merry, Madam j but I would perfuade 
you for a moment to be ferious. 

Milla, What, with that face ? No, if you keep your 
countenance, 'tis impolfible I mould hold mine. Well, 
after all, there is fomething very moving in a love-lick 
face. Ha, ha, ha — Well I won't laugh, don't be peevifti, 
— Heigho ! Now I'll be melancholy, as melancholy as 
a watch-light. Well, Mirabell, it ever you will win me, 

woo me now Nay, if you are fo tedious, fare you 

well ? I fee they are walking awav. 

Mira. Can you find, in the variety of your difpofition, 
one moment 

Milla. To hear you tell me Foible's married, and your 
plot like to fpeed — No. 

Mira. But how you come to know it 

Milla. Without the help of the devil, you can't ima- 
gine, unlefs flie fhould tell me herfelr. Which of the 
two it may have been, I will leave you to conlider ; and 
when you have done thinking of that, think or me. 


Mira, I have fomething more — Gone — Think or you ! 
To think of a whirlwind, though 'twere in a whirlwind, 
were a cafe of more fteady contemplation ; * a very 
* tranquility of mind and maniion, A bellow that lives iu 
4 4 a wind-mill, 



* a windmill, has not a more whimfical dwelling than the 

* heart of a man that is lodged in a woman. There is no 
' point or the compafs to which they cannot turn, and by 

* which they are not turn'd ; and by one as well as ano- 

* ther ; for motion, not method, is their occupation. To 

* know this, and yet continue to be in love, is to be made 

* wife from the dictates of reaion,and yet perfevere to play 

* the fool by the force or inltinct' — Oh^here come my pair 
of turtles. — What, billing fo fweetly ! Is not Valentine's 
day over with you yet ? 

Etiier Waitwell and Foible. 
Mira, Sirrah, Waitwell, why fureyou think you were 
marry'd for your own recreation, and not for my conve- 

Wait. Your pardon, Sir. With fubmiffion, we have 
indeed been folacing in lawful delights ; but Hill with an 
eye to bufinefs, Sir; I have inftructed her as well as I 
could. If flie can take your directions as readily as my 
inlTruclions, Sir, your affairs are in aprofperous way. 

Mira. Give you joy, Mrs. Foible. 

Foil. O-la, Sir, I'm fo afliam'd— I'm afraid my lady 
has been in a thoufand inquietudes for me. But I proteft, 
Sir, I made as much hafte as I could. 

WUtii That (he did, indeed, Sir. It was my fault that 
file did not make more. 

Mira, That I believe. 

Foil;. But I told my lady, as you inftructed me, Sir, 
that I had a profpect of feeing Sir Rowland your uncle ; 
and'that I would put her ladyfhip's picture in my pocket 
to Ihew him ; which I'll be fure to fay has made him fo 
enamour'd with her beauty, that he burns with impa- 
tience to lie at her ladyfhip's feet, and worfhip the origi- 

Mira. Excellent Foible ! Matrimony has made you 
eloquent in love. 

JVait. I think (lie has profited, Sir, I think fo. 
Foib. You have feen Madam Millamant, Sir ? 
Mira. Yes. 

Foib. I told her, Sir, becaufe I did not know that you 
might find an opportunity ; (he had fo much company 
laft night. 

D Mira. 



m Mira. Your diligence will merit more in the mean 

time— [Gives money \ 

Fcib. O dear Sir, your humble fervant. 
Wait. Spou fe. 

Mira. Sand off, Sir, not a penny Go on and pro- 

fper, Foible The leafe mail be made good, and the 

tarm ftock'd, if we fucceed. 

Fcib. I don't queftion your generofity, Sir ; and you 
need not doubt or fuccefs. If you have no more com- 
mands, Sir, I'll be gone ; I'm fure my lady is at her 

toilet, and can't drefs 'till I come O dear, I'm fure 

that [looking out.] was Mrs. Marwood, that went by in a 
mafk, if me has feen me with you I'm futeflie'll tell my 
lady. I'll make hafte home and prevent her. Your fer- 
vant, Sir. B'w'y Waitwell. [Exit. 

Wait. Sir Rowland, if you pleafe. The jade's fo pert 
upon her preferment me forgets herielf. 

Mira. Come, Sir, will you endeavour to forget your- 
felf and transform into Sir Rowland. 

Wait. Why, Sir, it will be impoffible I mould remem- 
ber myfelf Marry'd, knighted, and attended, all in 

one day ! 'Tis enough to make a man forget himfelf. 
« The difficulty will be how to recover my acquaintance 

* and familiarity with my former feif ; and fall from my 

* transformation to a reformation into Waitwell. Nay, 
4 I fhan't be quite the fame Waitwell neither,' and now 
I remember, I'm marry'd, and can't be my own man 

Ay, there's my grief ; that's the fad change of life ; 
To lofe my title, and yet keep my wife. 

End of the Second Act. 


SCENE, A room in Lady Wiftifort'j houfe. 

Lady Wiftifort at her toilet, Peg waiting. 

Lady Wishfort. 
"It ^Erciful! no news of Foible yet? 
jYJL Pe £* No » Madam. 
Lady W. I have no more patience— If I have not fret- 



ted myfelf till I am pale again, there's no veracity in me . 
Fetch me the red— the red, do you hear, fweetheart ? 
An errant alh-colour, as I'm a perlbn. Look you how 
this wench flirs ! Why doll: thou not fetch me a little 
red ? Did ft thou not hear me, Mopus ? 

Peg. The red ratafia does your ladyfhip mean, or the 
cherry -brandy ? 

Lady W. Ratafia, fool ! no, fool, not the ratafia, fool. 
Grant me patience ! I mean the Spanifh paper, ideot, 
complexion. Darling paint, paint, paint ; doit thou un- 
derftand that, changeling, dangling thy hands, like bob- 
bins, before thee ? Why doll thou not ftir, puppet? thou 
wooden thing upon wires ! 

Peg. Lord, Madam, your ladyfhip is fo impatient !— 
I cannot come at the paint, Ma'dam ; Mrs. Foible has 
locked it up, and carried the key with her. 

Lady W. A pox take you both ! Fetch me the cherry- 
brandy, then, [Exit Peg, 
I'm as pale and as faint— I look like Mrs. Qualmfick, the 
curate's wife, that's always breeding. Wench, come, 
come, wench ; what art thou doing ; Sipping, tailing ? 
Save thee, doll: thou not know the bottle? 

Re-enter Peg, with a bottle and China cup. 

Peg. Madam, I ftaid to bring your ladyfhip a cup. 

Lady W. A cup, fave thee ! and what a cup haft 
thou brought ? Doft thou take me for a fairy, to drink 
out of an acorn ? Why didft thou not bring thy thimble ? 
Haft thou ne'er a brafs thimble clinking in thy pocket, 
with a bit of nutmeg ? I warrant thee. Come, fill, fill — 
So — again. See who that is. [One knocks.] Set down 

the bottle firft. Here, here, under the table What, 

wouldft thou go with the bottle in thy hand, like a tap- 
per ? As I'm a perfon, this wench has lived in an inn 
upon the road, before fhe came to me, * like Maritornes, 
4 the Afturian, in Don Quixote.' No Foible yet? 

Peg. No, Madam, Mrs. Marwood. 

Lady W. Oh, Marwood ! let her come in. Come in, 
good Marwood. 

Enter Mrs. Marwood. 
Mrs. Mar.^ I'm furprized to find your ladyfhip In difha- 
bille at this time of day. 

Lady W. Foible's a loft thing ; has been abroad fince 
morning and never heard of fince. 

D 2 Mrs. Mar, 


Mrs. Mar. I faw her but now, as I came mafk'd through 
the Park, in conference with Mirabell. 

Lady W. With Mirabell ! You call my blood into my 
face, with mentioning that traitor. She durft not have 
the confidence. I fent her to negociate an affair^ in which, 
if I'm detected, I'm undone. If that wheedling villain 
has wrought upon Foible to detect me, I'm run'd. Oh, 
my friend, I'm a wretch of wretches, if I'm detected ! 

Mrs. Mar. Oh, Madam, you cannot fufpect Mrs. Foi- 
ble's integrity. 

Lady W. Oh, he carries poifon in his tongue, that 
would corrupt integrity itfelf ! If (he has given him an 
opportunity, me has as good as put her integrity into his 
hands. Ah, -dear Marwood ! what's integrity to an op- 
portunity ? — Hark ! I hear her. Dear friend, retire into 
my clofet, that I may examine her with more freedom. 
You'll pardon me, dear friend, I can make bold with you. 
There are books over the chimney ; Quarles and Pryn f 
and the Short View of the Stage, with Bunyan's Works, to 
entertain you. — Go, you thing, and fend her in. [To Peg. 
Enter Foible. 

Lady W. Oh, Foible ! where haft thou been ? What 
haft thou been doing ? 

Foil. Madam, I have feen the party. 

Lady IV. But what haft thou done * 

Foil. Nay, 'tis your ladylhip has done, and are to do ; 

I have only promikd. But a man fo enamoured £o 

tranfported ! Well, if worshipping of pictures be a fin- 
Poor Sir Rowland, I fay. 

Lady W. The miniature has been counted like. But haft 
thou not betrayed me, Foible ? Halt thou not dete&ed 
me to that faithlefs Mirabell ? What hadft thou to do 
with him in the Park? Anfwer me, has he got nthing 
out of thee? 

Foil. So, the devil has been beforehand with me. What 

mall I fay ? Alas, Madam, could I help it, if I met 

that confident thing ? Was I in fault ? If you had heard 
tow he ufed me, and all upon your ladyfliip's account, I 
am fure you would not fufpect my fidelity. Nay, if that 
had been the worft, I could have borne ; but he had a 
fling at your ladyfhip too ; and then I could not hold : 
but, i'faith, I gave him his own. 

Lady W* 


Lady W. Me ! What did the filthy fellow fay ? # 
Foib, Oh', Madam, 'tis a fhame to fay what he faid !— 

With his taunts, and his fleers, tolling up his nofe 

Humph, (fays he) what, are you hatching fome plot, 
(fays he) you are fo early abroad ? Or catering (fays he) 
ferreting for fome dimanded officer, I warrant. Half-pay 
is but thin fubhitence (fays he) — Well, what penfion does 

your lady propofe ?« — Let me fee (fays he) what, (he 

mu ft come down pretty deep, now; fhe's fuperannuated, 
(fays he) and 

Lady W. Ods my life ! I'll have him — I'll have him 
murdered, I'll have him poifoned. Where does he cat I 
I'll marry a drawer, to have him poifoned in his wine, 
I'll fend for Robin from Locket's immediately. 

Foib. Poifon him ! poifoning's too good for him. Staive 
him. Madam, ftarve him ; marry Sir Rowland, and get 
him difinherited. Oh, you would blefs yourfelf to hear 
what he faid ! 

Lady IV. A villain ! Superannuated I 

Foib. Humph, (fa>s he) 1 hear you are laying defigns 
againft me too, (fays he) and Mrs. Millamant is to marry 
my uncle ; (he does not fufpecl a word of your ladyfliip} 
but (fays he) I'll fit you for that, I warrant you (fays he). 
I'll hamper you for that, (fays he) and you and your old 
frippery too (fays he). I'll handle you 

Lady W. Audacious villain ! handle me ! Would he 
durft — Frippery ! old frippery ! Was there ever fuch a 
foul-mouth'd fellow ? I'll be marry'd to-morrow ; I'll be 
contracted to-night. 

Foib. The fooner the better, Madam. 

Lady W. Will Sir Rowland be here, fay 'ft thou > 
When, Foible? 

Foib. Incontinently, Madam* No new ftierifPs wife 
experts the return of her huiband, after knighthood, with 
that impatience with which Sir Rowland burns for the 
dear hour of killing your ladylfiip's hand after dinner. 

Lady JV. Frippery ! fuperannuated frippery ! I'll frip- 
pery the villain j I'll reduce him to frippery and rags ; a 
tatterdemalion. Yes, he mall have my niece, with hei 
fortune, he fhail. 

Foib. He ! I hope to fee him lodge in Ludgate firft, 
D 3 and 


and angle into Black Friars for brafs farthings, with an 
old mitten. 

Lady W. Ay, dear Foible ; thank thee for that, dear 
Foible. He has put me out of all patience. I fhall never 
recompofe my features to receive Sir Rowland with any 
ceconomy of face. This wretch has fretted me, that I am 
abfolutely decayed. Look, Foible. 

Foil, Your ladyfhip has frowned a little too rafhly, 
indeed, Madam. There are fome cracks difcernible m 
the white varnifh. 

Lady W. Let me fee the glafs — Cracks, fay'ft thou ? 
Why, I am errantly flead. I look like an old peel'd wall. 
Thou mull repair me, Foible, before Sir Rowland comes, 
or I fhall never keep up to my picture. 

Foil. I warrant you, Madam : a little art once made 
your picture like you ; and now, a little of the fame art 
muft make you like your picture. Your picture muft fit 
for you, Madam. 

Lady W, But art thou fure Sir Rowland will not fail 
to come ? Or will he not fail when he does come ; Will 
he be importunate, Foible, ' and pufh ?* For if he fhould 
not be importunate, I fhall never break decorums. I 
fhall die with confufion, if I am forced to make advances. 
* Oh, no, I can never advance. I fhall fwoon, if he fhould 
4 expect advances.' No, I hope Sir Rowland is better 
bred, than to put a lady to the neceflity of breaking her 
forms. I won't be too coy, neither ; I won't give him de- 
fpair. But a little difdain is not amifs ; a little fcorn is 

Foib. A little fcorn becomes your ladyfhip. 

Lady W. Yes, but tendernefs becomes me beft — A fort 
of a dyingnefs. You fee that picture has a fort of a 

Ha, Foible ! a fwimmingnefs in the eyes Yes, I'll 

look fo My niece affects it ; but fhe wants features. 

Is Sir Rowland handfome ? Let my toilet be removed; 
I'll drefs above. I'll receive Sir Rowland here. Is he 
handfome ? Don't anfwer me ; I won't know ; I'll be 
furprifed ; be taken by furprife. 

Foib. By florm, Madam. Sir Rowland's a brifk man. 

LadyW. Is he? Oh, then, he'll importune, if he's a 
brifk man. I fhall fave decorums, if Sir Rowland im- 
portunes. I have a mortal terror at the apprehenfion of 



offending againft decorums. Oh, I'm glad he's a brilk 
man ! Let my things be removed, good Foible. [Exit, 
Enter Mrs. Fainall. 

Mrs. Fain Oh, Foible ! I have been in a fright, left 
I mould come too late. That devil, Marvvood, faw you 
in the Park with Mirabell, and, I'm afraid, will difcover 
it to my Lady. 

Foil, Difcover what, Madam ? 

Mrs, Fain. Nay, nay, put not on that ftrange face. \ 
am privy to the whole defign, and know that Waitwell, to 
whom thou wert this morning married, is to perfonate 
Mirabell's uncle, and, as fuch, winning my Lady, to in- 
volve her in thole difficulties from which Mirabell only 
mull releafe her, by his making his conditions to have my 
couiin and her fortune left to her own difpofal. 

Foib. Oh, dear Madam, I beg your pardon ! It was not 
my confidence in your ladyfhip that was deficient ; but I 
thought the former good correfpondence between your 
ladylhip and Mr. Mirabell, might have hindered his com- 
municating this fecret. 

Mrs. Fain, Dear Foible, forget that. 

Foib. Oh, dear Madam, Mr. Mirabell is fuch a fweer, 
winning gentleman ! But your ladylhip is the pattern of 
generality. Sweet lady, to be fo good ! Mr. Mirabell 
cannot choofe but be grateful. I find your ladylhip has 
his heart ftill. Now, Madam, I can falely tell your la- 
dylhip our fuccefs. Mrs. Marwood has told my Lady ; 
but I warrant I managed myfelf. I turned it all for the 
better. I told my Lady, that Mr. Mirabell railed at her j 
I laid horrid things to his charge, I'll vow ; and my La- 
dy is fo incenfed, that lhe'11 be contracted to Sir Rowland 
to-night, Ihe fays. I warrant I worked her up, that he 
may have her for alking for, ' as they fay of a Welch 
4 maidenhead.' 

Mrs. Fain. Oh, rare Foible ! 

Foib. Madam, I beg your ladylhip to acquaint Mr. 
Mirabell of his fuccefs. I would be feen as little as pof- 
iible to fpeak to him ; befides, I believe Madam Marwood 
watches me. She has a month's mind ; but I know Mr. 
Mirabell can't abide her — [Calls.'] — John, remove my 
Lady's toilet. Madam, your fervant. My Lady is (p 
impatient, I fear lhe'11 come for me, if I flay. 



Mrs. Fain, I'll go with you up the back ftairs, left I 
fhould meet her. [ Exeunt. 

Enter Mrs, Marwood. 

Mrs, Mar, Indeed, Mrs. Engine ! is it thus with you ? 
Are you become a go-between of this importance ? Yes, 
I mail watch you. 1 Why, this wench is the pofs-par- 
4 tout, a very mafter-key to every body's ftrong box.' 
My friend, Fainall, have you carried it fo fwimmingly ? 
4 I thought there was fomething in it : but it feems it's 
4 over with you. Your loathing is not from a want of 

* appetite, then, but from a furfeit ; elfe you could ne- 

* ver be ibcool to fall from a principal to be an afliftanj: ; 
' to procure for him ! a pattern of generofity that, I con- 
' fefs. Well, Mr. Fainall, you have met with your 
4 match. Oh, man, man ! woman, woman ! The de- 

* vil's an afs. If I were a painter I would draw him like 

* an ideot, a driveler, with bib and bells. Man fhould 

* have his head and horns, and woman the reft of him. 

* Poor fimple fiend !' — Madam Marwood has a month's 
mind ; but he can't abide her. 'Twere better for him 
you had not been his confeflbr in that affair, without you 
could have kept his counfel clofer. * I fhall not prove 

* another pattern of generofity. He has not obliged me 

* with thofe excefies of himfelf ; and now I'll have none 
' of him. Here comes the good lady, panting ripe ; with 

* a heart full of hope, and a head full of care, like any 

* chymift upon the day of projection. 

4 Enter Lady Willi fort. 
6 Lady W. Oh, dear Marwood! what (hall I fay for 

* this rude forgetfulnefs ? But my dear friend is all 
4 goodnefs. 

* Mrs. Mar. No apologies, dear Madam ; I have been 

* very well entertained. 

4 Lady W, As I'm a perfon, I am in a very chaos, to 
4 think I fhould fo forget myfelf ; but I have iuch an olio 

4 of affairs, really L know not what to do [Calls.] 

4 Foible! 1 expect my nephew, Sir Wilfull, every 

* moment, too Why, Foible! He means to tra.- 

* vel for improvement. 

1 Mrs. Mar, Methinks Sir Wilfull fhould rather think 
4 of marrying than travelling, at his years,. I hear he is 

* turned of forty. 

4 Lady; 


* Lady W. Oh, he's in lefs danger of being fpoiled by 
his travels. I am againft my nephew's marrying too 
young. It will be time enough when he comes back, 

* and has acquired difcretion to choofe for himfelr. 

' Mrs. Mar. Methinks Mrs. Millamant and he would 

* make a very fit match. He may travel afterwards. 
' Tis a thing very ufual with young gentlemen. 

' Lady I promife you, I have thought on't ; and 
' fince 'tis your judgment, I'll think on't again. I anure 

* you, I will ; I value your judgment extremely. On my 

* word, I'll propofe it. 

' Enter Foible. 

* Come, come, Foible — I had forgot my nephew will be 

* here before dinner — I muft make halle. 

* Foib. Mr. Witwoud and Mr. Petulant are come to 

* dine with your ladyfhip. 

S Lady W. Oh, dear ! I can't appear till I'm drefs'd. 

* Dear Marwood, fhall I be free with you again, andbegj 
4 you to entertain them ? I'll make all imaginable hafte. 

* Dear friend, excufe me. \Ex. Foible and Lady W.' 

Enter Mrs. Millamant and Mincing. 

Milla. Sure never any thing was fo unbred as that 
odious man Marwood, your iervant. 

Mrs. Mar, You have a colour ; what's the matter ? 

Milla. That horrid fellow, Petulant, has provoked me 

into a flame— — I have broke my fan Mincing, lend 

me yours. Is not all the powder out of my hair ? 

Mrs. Mar. No. What has he done ? 

Milla. Nay, he has done nothing ; he has only talked 
—Nay, he has faid nothing, neither ; but he has contra- 
dicted every thing that has been faid. For my part, I, 
thought Witwoud and he would have quarrelled. 

Mine. I vow, Mem, I thought once they would have fit. 

Milla. Well, Ms a lamentable thing, I fwear, that one 
has not the liberty of choofing one's acquaintance, as one 
does one's cloaths. 

\ Mrs. Mar. If we had that liberty, we mould be as 

* weary of one fet of acquaintance, tho' never fo good, 
' as we are of one fuit, tho' never fo fine : a fool and a 
■ doily ftuff would now and then find days of grace, and 
' be worn for variety. 

* Milla* I could confent to wear them, if they would 

* wear 


* wear alike ; but fools never wear out — They are fuch 

* drap-de-berry things ! Without one could give them to 

* one's chambermaid, after a day or two.' 

Mrs, Mar, 4 'Twere better fo indeed. Or what think 

* you of the play-houfe ? A fine, gay, glofly fool mould 

* be given there, like a new malking habit after the maf- 

* querade is over, and we have done with the difguife ; 
' for a fool's vifit is always a difguife, and never admitted 

* by a woman of wit, but to blind her affair with a lover 
4 of fenfe.' If you would but appear barefaced now, and 
own Mirabell, you might as eaiily put off Petulant and 
Witwoud, as your hood and fcarf. And indeed 'tis time ; 
for the town has found it : * the fecret is grown too big 

* for the pretence : 'tis like Mrs. Primley's great belly ; 

* me may lace it down before, but it burnilhes on her 
' hips. Indeed, Millamant, you can no more conceal it, 
« than my Lady Strammel can her face, that goodly face, 

* which, in defiance to her Rhenilh-wine tea, will not be 

* comprehended in a mafk.' 

Mitta. I'll take my death, Marwood, you are more 
cenforious than a decayed beauty, or a difcarded toaft— 
Mincing, tell the men they may come up. My aunt is 
not drefling here. Their folly is lefs provoking than your 
malice. [Exit Mine. 

The town has found it ! What has found it ? That Mira- 
bell loves me is no more a fecret, than it is a fecret that 
you difcovered it to my aunt, or than the reafon why you 
difcovered it is a fecret. 

Mrs, Mar, You are nettled. 

MMa. You are miftaken. Ridiculous ! 

Mrs, Mar. Indeed, my dear, you'll tear another fan, 
if you don't mitigate thofe violent airs. 

Mitta* Oh, filly ! Ha, ha, ha ! I could laugh immo- 
deraly. Poor Mirabell ! his conilancy to me has quite 
deflroyed his complaifance for all the world befide. I 
fwear, I never enjoin'd it him to be fo coy. If I had the 
vanity to think he would obey me, I would command him 
to ftrcw more gallantry. 'Tis hardly well bred, to be fo 
particular on one hand, and fo infenfible on the other. 
But I defpair to prevail ; fo let him follow his own way. 
Ha, ha, ha ! Pardon me, dear creature, I muft laugh ; 


ha, ha, ha ! tho', I grant you, 'tis a little barbarous, 
ha, ha, ha ! 

6 Mrs. Mar. What pity 'tis, fo much raillery, and de- 

* livered with fo lignificant gefture, mould be fo unhappi- 
' ly directed to mifcarry ! 

* Milla. Ha! dear creature, I alk your pardon; I 

* fwear, I did not mind you.' 

Mrs. Mar. Mr. Mirabell and you both may think it a 
thing impoffible, when I mall tell him by telling you- 

Milla. Oh, dear ! what ? For it is the fame thing if I 
hear it. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Mrs. Mar. That I deteft him, hate him, Madam. 

Milla. Oh, Madam ! why, fodo I. And yet the crea- 
ture loves me, ha, ha, ha ! How can one forbear laughing 
to think of it ? I am a Sybil, if I am not amazed to think 
what he can fee in me. I'll take my death, I think you 
are handfomer, and within a year or two as young. If 
you could but ftay for me, 1 mould overtake you — But 
that cannot be — Well, that thought makes me melancho- 
lic—Now I'll be fad. 

Mrs. Mar. Your merry note may be changed fooner 
than you think. 

Milla. D'ye fay fo ? .« Then I'm refolved Til have a 

* fong, to keep up my fpirits.' — But here come the gentlemen. 

6 Enter Mincing. 
' Mine* The gentlemen itay but to comb, Madam ; 

* and will wait on you. 

* Milla. Defire Mrs. , that is in the next room, to 

* ling the fong I would have learnt yefterday You 

* (hall hear it, Madam — Not that there's any great mat- 

* ter in it ; but 'tis agreeable to my humour. 


* Love's but the frailty of the mind, 
' When 'tis not with ambition join'd ; 

' A fickly flame, which, if not fed, expires; 

* And feeding, waftes in felf-confuming fires. 

* Tis not to wound a wanton boy 

' Or am'rous youth, that gives the joy ; 

* But 'tis the glory to have piere'd a fwain, 

* For whom inferior beauties figh'd in vain, 

• Then 


' Then I alone the conqueft prize, 
* When I infult a rival's eyes : 
' If there's delight in love, 'tis when I fee 
* That heart which others bleed for, bleed for me. 
Enter Petulant and Wiuvoud. 
Milla. Is your animofiry compos'd, gentlemen ? 
Wit. Raillery, raillery, Madam ; we have no animc- 
fity — We hit off a little wit now and then, but no ani- 
mofity — The falling out of wits is like the falling out of 

lovers We agree in the main, like treble and bafe. 

Ha, Petulant ? 

Pet. Ay, in the main. But when I have a humour 

to contradict 

Wit. Ay, when he has a humour to contradict, then 
I contradict too. What, I know my cue. Then we 
contradict one another Ike two battle-dorcs : for contra- 
dictions beget one another like Jews. 

Pet. If he fays black's black — if I have a humour to 

fay 'tis blue Let that pafs All's one for that. If 

I have a humour to prove it, it mull be granted. 

. Wit. Not pofitively mult But it may 


Pet. Yes, it pofitively mud, upon proof polltive. 

Wit. Ay, upon proof pofirive it mult ; but upon proof 
prefumptive it only. may. That's a logical diftinction 
now, Madam. 

Mn. Mar. I perceive your debates are of importance, 
and very learnedly handled. 

Pet. Importance is one thing, and learning's another ; 
but a debate's a debate, that I anert. 

Wit. Petulant's an enemy to learning ; he relies al- 
together on his parts. 

Pet. No, I'm no enemy to learning ; it hurts not me. 

Mrs. Mar. That's a fign indeed 'tis no enemy to you. 

Pet. No, no ; 'tis no enemy to any body, but them 
that have it. 

Milla. Well, an illiterate man's my averfion : I won- 
der at the impudence of any illiterate man, to offer to 
make love. 

Wit. That I confefs I wonder at too. 

Milla, Ah 1 to marry an ignorant ! that can hardly read 
or write. . 



Pet. Why mould a man be any farther from being 
married, tho' he can't read, than he is from being 
hang'd. The ordinary's paid for fetting the pfalm, and 
the parifh-prieft for reading the ceremony. And for the 
reft which is to follow in both cafes, a man may do it 
without book So all's one for that. 

Milla. D'ye hear the creature ? Lord, here's company, 
I'll be gone. 

£«/rrSirWilfull Witwoud, in a riding-drcfs, and aFootman. 

Wit* In the name of Bartholomew and his fair, what 
have we here ? 

Mrs. Mar. 'Tis your brother, I fancy. Don't you 
know him ? 

Wit. Not I Yes, I think it is he I've 

almoft forgot him ; I have not feen him fmce the coro- 

Foot. Sir, my lady's dreffing. Here's company; if 
you pleafe to walk in, in the mean time. 

Sir Wil. Dreffing ! What, 'tis but morning here, I war- 
rant, with you in London : we (hou'd count it towards af- 
ternoon in our parts, down in Shropshire 1 — Why 

then belike my aunt han't din'd yet Ha, friend \ 

Foot. Your aunt, Sir ? 

Sir Wil. My aunt, Sir! yes, my aunt, Sir, and your 
lady, Sir; your lady is my aunt, Sir — Why, what doll 
thou not know me, friend ? Why then fend fome body 
hither that does. How long haft thou lived with thy 
lady, fellow, ha ? 

. Foot. A week, Sir ; longer than any body in the houfe, 
except my lady's woman. 

Sir Wil. Why then belike thou doft not know thy la- 
dy, if thou feeft her, ha, friend? 

Foot. Why truly, Sir, I cannot fafely fwear to her face 
in the morning, before me is drefs'd ; 'Tis like I may- 
give a ffirewd guefs at her by this time. 

Sir Wil. Well, pr'ythee try what thou canft do, if thou 
can ft not guefs, enquire her out, doft hear, fellow ? 
And tell her, her nephew, Sir Wilfull Witwoud, is in the 

Foot. Ifhall, Sir. 

Sir WiU Hold ye, hear me, friend ; a word with yo* 
in your ear ; pr'ythee who are thefe gallants ? TL 
E Foci 


Foot. Really, Sir, I can't tell ; here come fo many 
here, 'tis hard to know 'em all. [Em/. 

Sir Wil. Orns this fellow knows lefs than a darling ; 
I don't think a'knows his own name. 

Mrs. Mar. Mr. Wiiwoud, your brother is not behind- 
hand m forge tfulnefs— I fancy he has forgot you too. 

Wit. Ihopefo The devil take him that remembers 

firft, I fay. 

Sir Wil. Save you, gentlemen and lady. 

Mrs. Mar. Forfhame, Mr. Witwoud : why won't you 
fpeak to him ? And you, Sir. 

Wit. Petulant, fpeak. 

Vet. And you, Sir. 

Sir Wil. No offence, I hope. [Salutes Marwood. 

Mrs. Mar. No i ure, Sir/ 

Wit. This is a vile dog, I fee that already. No of- 
fence ! Ha, ha, ha! to him ; to him, Petulant ; ftnoke, 

Pet. It feems as if you had come a journey, Sir ; hem, 
hem. [ Sui <v>yi?ig bim round. 

Sir Wil. Very likely, Sir, that it may feem fo. 
Pet. No offence, I hope, Sir. 

Wit, Smoke the boots, the boots : Petulant, the boots; 
ha, ha, ha ! 

Sir Wil. May be not, Sir; thereafter as 'tis meant, Sir. 
Pa. Sir, I prefume upon the information of your 

Sir Wil. Why, 'tis like you may, Sir : if you are not 
fatisfy'd with the information of my boots, Sir, if you 
will itep to the liable, you may enquire further of my 
horfe, Sir. 

Pet. Your horfe, Sir ! Your horfe is an afs, Sir ? 

Sir Wil. Do you fpeak by way of offence, Sir ? 

Mrs. Mar. The gentle man's merry, that's all, Sir — 
S'iite we fliall have a quarrel betwixt an horfe and an afs, 
before they find one another out. [j4Jide.~] You muft not 
take any thing amifs from your friends, Sir. You are 
among your friends here, though it may be you don't 
know it — If I am not miftaken, you are Sir Wiltull Wit- 

Sir Wil. Right, Lady j I am Sir Wilfull Witwoud ; 


fo I write myfelf ; no offence to any body, I hope ; and 
nephew to the lady WiAifort of this manfion. 

Mrs. Mar. Don't you know this gentleman, Sir ? 

Sir Wil. Hum ! What, fure 'tis not — —Yea, by'r lady, 
but 'tis— 'Sheart I know not whether 'tis or no— Yea, 
but 'tis, by the Wrekin. Brother Antony ! what Tony, 
i'faith ! What doft thou not know me r By'r lady nor I 

thee, thou art fo becravatted, and fo beperiwig'd ■ 

'Sheart why doll not fpeak ? Art thou overjoy'd ? 

Wit. Odfo, brother, is it you ? Your fervant, brother. 

Sir Wil. Your fervant! Why yours, Sir. Your fer- 
vant again — 'Sheart, and your friend and fervant to that 
— And a — [pug/j] and flap dragon for your fefvice, Sir : 
and a hare's foot, and a hare's fcut for your fervice, Sir ? 
an you be fo cold and fo courtly ! 

Wtt. No offence, I hope, brother. 

Sir Wtt. 'Sheart, Sir, but there is, and much offence 
— A pox! is this your inns o'court-breedmg, not to know 
your friends and your relations, your elder*, and your 
betters ? 

Wit. Why, brother Wilfull of Salop, you may be as 
fhort as a Shrewfbury cake, if you pleafe. But I tell you 
'tis not modiih to know relations in town. You think 
you're in the country, where great lubberly brothers 
flabber and kifs one another when they meet, like a call 
of ferjeants — 'Tis not the fafhion here ; 'tis not indeed, 
dear brother. 

Sir Wil. The fafliion's a fool, and you're a fop, dear 
brother. 'Sheart, I've fufpecled this— By 'r lady I ccn- 
jectur'd you were a fop, fince you began to change the 
ftile of your letters, and write in a tcrap of paper gilt 
round the edges, no bigger than a Subpoena. 1 might 
expect this when you left off, Honoured brother ; and 
hoping you are in good health, and fo forth — To begin 
with a, Rat me, knight, I'm fo fick of lait night's debauch, 
— Ods heart, and then tell a familiar tale of a cock and 

a bull, and a whore and a bottle, and fo conclude — 

You could write news before you were out of your time, 
when you liv'd with honed Pumple-nofe the attorney of 

Furnival's Inn You cou'd intreat to be remember'tt 

then to your friends round the Wrekin. We could Ifcige 
£ 2 Gazettes 


Gazettes then, and Dawk's letter, and the weekly bill, 
till of late days. 

Pet, 'Slife, Witwoud, were you ever an attorney's 
clerk r Of the family of the Furnivals. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Wit. Ay, ay, but that was but for a while. Not long, 
not long, Pflunv, I was not in my own power then. An 
orphan, and this fellow was my guardian. Ay, ay, I was 
glad to content to that, man, to come to London. He 
had the difpofal of me then. If I had not agreed to 
that, I might have been bound 'prentice to a felt-maker 
in Shrewsbury ; this fellow would have bound me to a 
maker of felts. 

Sir WiU 'Sheart; and better than to be bound to a 
maker of fops ; where, I fuppofe, you have ferv'd your 
time ; and now you may fet up foryourfelf. 

Mrs. Mar. You intend to travel, Sir, as I'm inform 'd. 

Sir WiU Belike I may, Madam. I may chance to fail 
upon the fait feas, if my mind hold. 

Pet. And the wind ferve. 

Sir Wih Serve or not ferve, I {han't afk licence of 
you, Sir; nor the weather-cock your companion. I di- 
rect my difcourfe to the lady, Sir ; 'tis like my aunt may 

have told you, Madam — Yes, I have fettled my 

concerns, I may fay now, and am minded to fee foreign 
parts. If an how the peace holds, whereby that is 
taxes abate. 

Mn. Mar. I thought you had defigned for France at 
all adventures. 

Sir WiU I can't tell that ; 'tis like I may, and 'tis like I 
may not. I am fomewhat dainty in making a refolution 
— becaufe when I make it I keep it. I don't Hand, mill 
I (hall I, then ; if I fay't, I'll do't : but I have thoughts 
to tarry afmall matter in town, to learn fomewhat of your 
Lingo firfl:, before I crofs the feas. I'd gladly have 
fpice of your French, as they fay, whereby to hold dif- 
courfe in foreign countries. 

Mrs. Mar. Here's an academy in town for that ufe. 

Sir WiU Is there ? 'Tis like there may. 

Mrs. Mar. No doubt you will return very much im- 

Wit. Yes, refin'd like a Dutch fkipper from a whale- 



Enter 1 Lady Wifhfort and 1 Fainall. 
4 LadyW. Nephew, you are welcome. 
4 $if IVil. Aunt, your fervant. 
' Fain. Sir Wilfull, your mo ft faithful fervant. 

* SirWil. Coufin Fainall, give me your hand. 

f Lady IV. Coufin Witwoud, your fervaht; Mr. Pe- 
' tulant, your fervant — Nephew, you are welcome 
' again. Will you drink any thing after your journey, 

* nephew, before you eat ? Dinner's almoit ready. 

* Sin WiU I'm very well, I thank you, aunt — However, 

* I thank you for your courteous offer. 'Sheart I was 
' afraid you wou'd have been in the fafhion too, and have 
c remember'd to have forgot your relations, ' Here's your 

* coufin Tony, belike, I mayn't call him brother for fear 

* of offence. 

* Lady W. O he's a railer, nephew—My coufm's a 
' wit: and your great wits always rally their bed friends 

* to choofe. When you have been abroad, nephew, 

* you'll underhand raillery better. 

4 [Fain, and Mrs. Marwood talks apart. 

* Sir Wil. Why then let him hold his tongue in the 
' mean time, and rail when that day comes.' 

Enter Mincing. 

Mine. Gentlemen, I come to acquaint you that din- 
ner is impatient, and my lady waits. 

Sir IViL Impatient ! Why then belike it won't flay 'till 
I pull off my boots. Sweetheart, can you help me to a 
pair of flippers ? My man's with his horfes,T war- 

Mincing. Fy, fy, Sir, you wou'd not pull off your 
.boots here ; you mufr go down into the hall. 

4 Lady W. Dinner mall fray for you. My nephew's 
' little unbred, you'll pardon him. Gentlemen, will you 
1 walk ? Marwood ?' 

Mrs. Mar. I'll follow you, Madam, before Sir Wif- 
full is ready. [Exeunt. 

Fain. Why then Foible's a bawd, an errant, rank, 
match-making bawd. And I, it feems, I am a huftwnd, a 
rank-huiband ; and my wife a very errant, rank-wile,— 
all in the Way of the World. 'Sdeath, to be a cuckold by- 
anticipation, a cuckold m embryo 1 4 Sure I was born 

* with budding antlers, like a young fatyr, or a" citizen's 

E 3 « child.' 


« child.' 'Sdeath to be out-witted, to be out- jilted — 

out-matrimony'd If I had kept my fpeed like a (lag, 

'twere fomewhat but to crawl after, with my horns 

like a fnail, and be out-ihipp'd by my wife 'tis 

fcurvy wedlock. 

Mrs. Mar. Then {hake it oft', you have often wifh'd 
for an opportunity to part ; — and now you have it. But 
firft prevent their plot the half of Millamant's for- 
tune is too confiderable to be parted with to a foe, to Mi- 

Fain. Damn him, that had been mine had you 

not made that fond difcovery That had been for- 
feited, had they been married. My wife had added Inure 
to my horns, by that increafe of fortune ; I cou'd have 
worn 'em tipt with gold, tho' my forehead had beenfur- 
xiifli'd like a deputy-lieutenant's hall. 

Mrs. Mar. They may prove a cap of maintenance to 
you flill, if you can away with your wife ; 4 and (he's 

* no worfe than when you had her. I dare fwear me had 

* given up her game before fiie was married. 

* Fain. Hum ! — That may be. 

* Mrs. Mar. You married her to keep you ; and if you 

* can contrive to have her keep you better than you ex- 

* peeled, why fhould you not keep her longer than you 

* intended.* 

Fain. The means ! the means ! 

Mrs. Mar. Difcover to my lady your wife's conduct ; 

threaten to part with her My lady loves her, and 

will come to any compofition to fave her reputation. 
Take the opportunity of breaking it, juft upon the dif- 
covery of this impofture. My lady will be enraged be- 
yond bounds, and facrifice niece, and fortune, and all 
at that conjuncture. And let me alone to keep her warm ; 
if Ihe fhould flag in her part, I will not fail to prompt 

Fain. Faith, this has an appearance. 

Mrs. Mar. I'm forry I hinted to my lady to endea- 
Tour a match between Millamant and Sir Wilfull, that 
may be an obftacle. 

Fain. Oh, for that matter, leave me to manage him ; 
I'll difable him for that. He will drink like a Dane : after 
dinner, FU fet his hand in, 



€ Mrs. Mar. Well, how do you ftand affe&ed towards 

* the lady ? 

* Fain. Why faith, I'm thinking of it — Let me fee — 
4 I am married already, fo that's over — My wife has 
' played the jade with me — Well, that's over too — I 

* never loved her, or if I had, why that would have been 
' over too by this time— Jealous of her I cannot be, for 
4 I am certain; fo there's an end of jealoufy — Weary 

* of her I am, and (hall be — No, there's no end of that ; 

* no, no, that were too much to hope— Thus far con- 

* cerning my repofe — Now for my reputation — As to 

* my own, I married not for it ; fo that's out of the 

* queftion — And as to my part in my wife's — Why, fhe 

* had parted with her's before; fo bringing none to me, 

* me can take none from me ; 'tis againft all rule of 

* play, that I mould lofe to one who has not where- 
e withal to Hake. 

* Mrs. Mar. Befides, you forget; marriage is ho- 
' nourable. 

* Fain. Hum ! faith, and that's well thought on ; 
6 marriage is honourable, as you fay ; and if fo, where- 

* fore fliould cuckoldom be a difcredit, being derived 

* from fo honourable a root ? 

* Mrs. Mar, Nay, I know not ; if the root be h'onour- 
« able, why not the branches ? 

* Fain. So, fo ; why this point's clear' — Well, how 
do we proceed ? 

Mrs. Mar. I will contrive a letter, which- fhall be de- 
livered to my lady at the time when that rafcal, who is 
to act Sir Rowland, is with her. It mall come as from 

an unknown hand for the lefs I appear to know of 

the truth, the better I can play the incendiary. Belides, 
I would not have Foible provoked, if I could help it 

becaufe you know fhe knows fome palTages Nay, I 

expect all will come out But let the mine be fprung 

firit, and then I care not if I am difcovered. 

Vain. If the worft come to the worft — I'll turn my 
wife to grafs — I have already a deed of fettlement of the 
beft part of her eftate ; which I wheedled out of her ; 
and that you mail partake at lealt. 

Mrs. Mar. I hope you are convinced that I hate Mira- 
bell now ; you'll be no more jealous ? 



Fain, Jealous, no by this kifs let hufbands be 

jealous ; but let the lover full believe ; ' or, if he doubt, 
' let it be only to endear his pleasure, and prepare the 

• joy that follows, when he proves his miflrefs true : but 

* let hufband's doubts convert to endlefs jealoufy ; c*r, if 
6 they have belief, let it corrupt to fuperftition, and blind 
' credulity;' I am (ingle, and will herd no more with 
them. True, I wear the badge, but I'lldifown the order. 
And fince I take my leave of them, I care not if I leave 
them a common motto to their common crefl. 

All hufbands mufl, or pain, or fhame, endure; 
The wife too jealous are, fools too fecure. 

End of the Third Act. 


SCENE continues. 
Lady Wifhfort and Foible. 

Lady W i shfort. 

IS Sir Rowland coming, fay'fl thou, Foible? and are 
things in order ? 

Foib, Yes, Madam. I have put wax lights in the 
fconces ; and placed the footmen in a row in the hall, 
in their befcliveries, with the coachman and poflillion to 
fill up the equipage. 

Lady W, Have you pulvilled the coachman and po- 
fiillion, that they may not flink of the liable, when Sir 
Rowland comes by ? 

Foil. Yes, Madam. 

* Lady W, And are the dancers and the mufic ready, 

* that he may be entertained in all points with corre- 

• fpohdence to his paffion ? 

* FoL All is ready, Ma'am.' 

LaJy W, And well and how do I look, Foible ? 

Foi, Moft killing well, Madam. 

Ladp W, Well, and how mall I receive him ? In what 
figure fhall I give his heart the firfl impreffion ? There 

is a great deal in the firil impreffion. Shall I fit ? No, 

J won't fit I'll walk — -ay, I'll walk from the door 



upon his entrance ; and -then turn full upon him- 

No, that will be too fudden— I'll lie, ay, Til lie down 
— I'll receive him in my little drefling-room, there's a 

couch Yes, yes, 1 11 give the firft impreflion on a 

coucn 1 won't lie neither, but loll and lean upon one 

elbow ; with one foot a little dangling off, jogging in a 
thoughtful way Yes -and then as foon as he ap- 
pears, Hart ; ay, Hart, and be furprifed, and rife to meet 

him in a pretty diforder Yes Oh, nothing is more 

alluring than a levee from a couch in lbme confufion 

It fliews the foot to advantage, and fumifhes with 

blufhes, and recompohng airs beyond comparifon. Hark ! 
There's a coach. 

Foil. 'Tis he, Madam. 

Lady W. Oh, dear, has my nephew made his addreffes 
to Millamant? I ordered him. 

foil. Sir Wilfull is fet in to drinking, Madam, in the 

Lady W. Od's my life, I'll fend him to her. Call her 
down, Foible ; bring her hither. I'll fend him as I go. 
When they are together, then come to me, Foible, that I 
may not be too long alone with Sir Rowland. 

[Exit Lady 
Enter Mrs. Millamant and Mrs. Fainall. 
Foib. Madam, I flayed here, to tell your ladyfhip that 
Mr. Mirabell has waited this half hour for an opportu- 
nity to talk with you. Though my lady's orders were to 
leave you and Sir Wilfull together. Shall I tell Mr. Mi- 
rabell that you are at leifure ? 

Miila. No What would the dear man have ? I am 

thoughtful, and would amufe myfelf Bid him come 

another time. 

There never yet was woman made, 
Nor (hall, but to be curs'd. 

[Repeating and walking about* 

That's hard ! 

Mrs. Fain. You are very fond of Sir Jack Suckling to- 
day, Millamant, and the poets. 

Milla. He ? Ay, and filthy verfes Sol am. 

Foib. Sir Wilfull is coming, Madam. Shall I fend Mr. 
Mirabell away ? 

Milla. Ay, if you pleafe, Foible, fend him away— 



Or fend him hither- jut! as you will, dear Foible 

I think I'll fee him— Shall I ? Ay, let the wretch come. 
Thyrfis, a youth of the infpired train. {Repeating. 

Dear Fainall, entertain Sir IVilfull Thou hail philo- 

fophy to undergo a fool ; thou art married and hall pa- 
tience I would confer with my own thoughts. 

Mrs. Fain. I am obli^rd to you, that you would make 
me your proxy in this affair; but I have bufmefs of my 

Enter Sir Wilful!. 

t Mrs. Fain. Oh, Sir IVilfull ; you are come at the cri- 
tical inftant. There's your miftrefs up to the ears in love 
and contemplation ; purfue your point, now or never. 

.Sir Wil. Yes; my aunt will have it fo 1 would 

gladly have been encouraged with a bottle or two, be- 
caufe I'm fomewhat wary at fkft, before I'm acquainted : 
\This while Mill am ant walks about repeating to herfelf.] 

But I hope, after a time, I fliaU break my mind — 

that is, upon further acquaintance — So fur the prefent, 

coulirr, I'll lake my leave If fo be, you'll be fo kind 

to make my excufe ; I'll return to my company 

■ Mrs. Fain. Oh, fy, Sir Wilfull ? What, you mull not 
be daunted 

Sir Wil. Daunted ! No, that's not it; it is not fo much 
for that — for if fo be that I fet on't, I'll do't. But only 
for the prefent, 'tis fufficient 'till further acquaintance, 
that's all- your fervant. 

Mrs. Fain. Nay, I'll fwear you fliall never lofe fo fa- 
vourable an opportunity, if I can help it. I'll leave you 
together, and lock the door. [Exit Fain. 

Sir Wil. Nay, nay, coulin — I have forgot my gloves 
—What d'ye do ? 'Sheart a'has locked the door indeed, 

I think Nay, coufin Fainall, open the door 

Pfha ! what a vixen trick is this? Nay, now a'has 

feen me too — Coufin, I made bold to pals through as it 
were 1 think this door's inchanted 

Milla. [Repeating. ] 

I pr'ythee fpare me, gentle boy, 
Prefs me no more for that flight toy. 

Sir Wil. Anan ? Coufin, your fervant. 

Milla. That foolilh trifle of a heart— Sir Wilfull ? 

Sir WiU Yes— your fervant. No offence, I hope, 
coufin. . Milla* 


MUa. [Relating.'] ^ 

I iwear it will do its part, 

Tho' thon doll thine, employ'ft thy power and art. 
Natural, eafy Suckling ! 

Sir Wil. Anan ! Suckling! No fuch fuckling neither, 
coufin, nor (tripling : I thank Heaven, I'm no minor. 

MUa. Ah, ruftic, ruder than Gothic. 

Sir IV'd. Well, well, I fhall undertfand your Lingo one 
of thefe day?, coufin ; in the mean while I rauit anfwer 
in plain Englifn. 

M'dla. Have you any bufinefs with me, Sir Wilfull ? 

S'-Wih Not at preient, coufin Yes, I made bold 

to fee, to come and know, if that how you were difpofed 
to fetch a walk this evening, if fo be that I might not be 
troublefome, I would have fought a walk with you. 

M'dla. A walk ? What then> 

Sir Wil, Nay, njthing Only for the walk's fake, 

that't, all 

M'dla. I nauleate walking : 'tis a country diverfion ; 
I loathe the country, and every thing that relates to it. 

Sir WiL Indeed ! Hah ! Look ye, look ye, you do ? 

Nay, 'tis like you may Here are choice of pallimes 

here in town, as plays and the like, that muft be con- 
fefied indeed 

Mil/a. AL\ Vctourdie! I hate the town too. 

Sir Wil. Dear heart, that's much -~ Hah ! that you 
fhould hate 'em both ! Hah! 'tis like you may; there 
are feme can't relifh the town, and others can't away with 
the country — 'tis like you may be one of thofe. couiin. 

M'dla. Ha, ha, ha ! Yes, 'tis like I may — You have 
nothing further to fay to me ? 

Six WiL Not at prefent, coufin- 'Tis like when I 

have an opportunity to be more private — I may break 

my mind in fome meafure 1 conjecture you partly 

guefs However, that's as time fhall'try -But fpare 

to fpeak and fpare to fpeed, as they fay. 

Miila. If it is or no great importance, Sir Wiifuil, 
you will oblige me to leave me : 1 have juft now a little 
bufinefs. — 

Sir Wil. Enough, enough, 'coufin : yes, yes, all a cafe 
When you're difpofed, when you're difpofed. Ncw's 
as well as another time ; and another time as well as now. 

2 All's 


All's one for that—- Yes, yes, if your concerns call you, 
there's no hafte ; it will keep cold as rhey fay — Coulin, 
your fervant 1 think this door's locked. 

Milla. You may go this way, Sir. 

Sir Wil. Your fervant, then with your leave I'll re- 
turn to my company. 

Milla. Ay, ay ; ha, ha, ha ! {Exit Sir Wil. 

Like Phoebus fungthe no lefs am'rous boy. 

r Mirabell. 

Mira. — Like Daphne fhe, as lovely and as coy. 
Dq you lock yourfelf up from me, to make my fearch 
more curious ? Or, is this pretry artifice contrived, to 
lignify that here the chace muft end, and my purfuit be 
crowned, for you can fly no farther ? 

Milla, Vanity ! No I'll fly and be followed to 

the laft moment ; though I am upon the very verge of 
matrimony, I expect you mould folicit me as much as if 
I were wavering at the gate of a monaftery, with one 
foot over the threfliold. I'll be folicited to the very laft, 
nay, and afterwards. 

Mira. What, after the laft ? 

Milla. 4 Oh, if I mould think I was poor, and had no- 
4 thing to beftow, if I were reduced to an inglorious 
" eafe, and freed from the agreeable fatigues of folicita- 
4 tion. 

* Mir. But don't you know, that when favours are 
4 conferred upon inftant and tedious folicitation, that 
4 they dirninifh in their value, and that both the giver 
4 lofes the grace, and the receiver leflens his pleafure. 

4 Milla. It may be in things of common application ; 
4 but never fure in love' — Oh, I hate a lover that can 
dare to think he draws a moment's air, independent on 
the bounty of his miftrefs. There is not fo impudent a 
thing in nature, as the faucy look of an alTured man, 
confident of fuccefs. The pedantic arrogance of a very 
hufband has not fo pragmatical an air. Ah, I'll never 
marry, unlefs I am firft made fure of my will and plea- 

Mira. Would you have 'em both before marriage ? Or 
will you be contented with the firft now, and ftay for 
the other 'till after grace ? 

Milla. Ah ! don't be impertinent- My dear li- 



berty, fliould I leave thee ? My faithful folitude, my 
darling contemplation, mutt I bid you then adieu ? Ah ! 
adieu — My morning thoughts, agreeable wakings, indo- 
lent llumbers, ye douceurs, ye fipinieils du matin adieu.-— 

I can't doubt, 'tis more than impoilible Pofitively, 

Mirabell, I'll lie a-bed in a morning as long as I pleafe. 

Mira. Then I'll get up in a morning as early as I 

Milla, Ay ! idle creature, get up when you will 
And, d'ye hear, I won't be call'd names after I'm mar- 
ried, poiitively I won't be called names. 

Mira. Names! 

Milla, Ay ; as wife, fpoufe, my dear, joy, jewel, 
love, Tweet-heart, and the reft of that naufeous cant, in 
which men and their wives are fo fuifomely familiar — I 

fliall never bear that Good Mirabel], don't let us be 

familiar or fond, nor kifs before folks, like my lady Fad- 
die and Sir Francis : nor go to Hyde Park together the 
firlt Sunday in a new chariot, to provoke eyes and 
whifpers, and then never be feen there together again ; 
as if we were proud of one another the firil week, and 
afhamed of one another ever after. Let us never vifit 
together, nor go to a play together ; but let us be very 
llrange and well-bred : let us be as ltrange as if we had 
been married a great while ; and as well-bred as if we 
were not married at all. 

Mir. Have you any more conditions to offer ? Hi- 
therto your demands are pretty reafonable. 

Milla. Tr;fles — As liberty to pay and receive vifits to 
and from whom I pleafe; to write and receive letters, 
without interrogatories or wry faces on your part; to 
wear what I pleafe ; and choofe converfation with rcgaid 
only to my own talte ; to have no obligation upon me to 
converfe with wits that I don't like, becaufe they are 
your acquaintance ; or to be intimate with fools, becaufe 
they may be your relations. Come to dinner when I 
pleafe ; dine in my drdfing-room when I'm out of hu- 
mour, without giving a reaibn. To have my clofet in- 
violate; to be idle emprefs of my tea-rable, w hich yea 
muft never prefume to approach without fill! 
leave. And laftiy, wherever I am, you fhali always knock 
at the door before you come in. Tnele articles fub- 
F fciibwU, 



fcribed, if I continue to endure you a little longer, 1 
may by degrees dwindle into a wife. 

Mira. Your bill of fare is fomething advanced in this 
latter account. Well, have I liberty to offer conditions 

That when you are dwindled into a wife, I may 

not be beyond meafure enlarged into a hufband. 

Mma. You have free leave; propofe your utmoft, 
fpeak and fpare not. ' 

M : ra. I you. Imprimis then, I covenant that 
your acquaintance be general ; that you admit no fworn 
confident, or intimate of your own fex ; 1 no (lie friend 
' to fkreen her aftairs under your countenance, and tempt 
' you to make trial of a mutual fecrecy no decoy- 
duck to wheedle you a fop-fcrambling to the play in a 

malk Then bring you home in a pretended fright, 

when you think you mall be found out And rail at 

me for miffing the play, and difappointing the frolic 
which you had to pick me up and prove my conttancy. 

Mllla. Deteftable imprimis ! I go to the pl iy in a 
njaik ! 

Mira* Item, I article, that you continue to like your 
own face, as long as I fliall : and while it panes current 
with me, that you endeavour not to new-coin it. To 
which end, together with all the vizards for the day, I 
prohibit all mafks for the night, made of oiled fkins, and 

I know not what Hogs bones, hare's gall, pig water, 

and the marrow of a roalled cat. I/cm, I (hut my doors 
againft all bawds with balkets, and penny-worths of 

muflin, china, fans, Atlafles, &c. Item, when you 

mall be breeding 

Milla. Ah, name it not. 

Mira. Which may be prefumed, with a bleflingon our 

endeavours — 

Milla. Odious endeavours ! 

Mira* I denounce againft all ftraight lacing, fqueezing 
for a fhape, till you mould my boy's head like a fugar- 
loaf ; and inftead of a man child make me father to a 
crooked-brat. Laftly, to the dominion of the tea table 

I fubmit But with provifo, that you exceed not in 

your province : but reitrain yourfelf to native and fimple 
tea-table drinks, as tea, chocolate, and coffee. As like- 
wife to genuine and authorized tea-table talk — Such as 



mending of fafhions, fpoiling reputations, railing at ab- 

fent friends, and fo forth Bur. that on no account 

you encroach upon the men's prerogative, and prefume^ 
to drink healths, or toait fellows ; for prevention of 
which I banim all foreign forces, all auxiliaries to the 
tea table, as orange brandy, all annifeed, cinnamon, 
citron and Bavbadoes waters, together with ratafia, and 

the mod noble fpirit of clary. But for cowilip wine, 

poppy water, and all dormi rives, thofe I allow — Theie 
provifo's admitted, in other things I may prove a tracta- 
ble and complying hulband. 

Mi/la. Oh, horrid provifo's ! filthy ftrong waters ! I 
toaft fellows ! Odious men ! I hate your odious provifo's. 

Mira. Then we're agreed. Shall I kits your lund 
upon the contract, ? And here comes one to be a witnefc 
to the fealing of the deed. 

Enter Mrs* Fainall. 

Milla. Fainall, what (hall I do ? Shall I have Mm ? I 
think I mufl have him. 

Mrs. Fain. Ay, ay, take him, take him ; what fhould 
you do ? 

Milla. Well then I'll take my death, I'm in a 

horrid fright Fainall, I fhali never fay it Well 

- I think I'll endure you, 

Mrs. Fain. Fy, fy, have him, have him, and tell him 
fo in plain terms: for I am fure you have a mind to 

Milla. Are you? I think I have and the horrid 

man looks as if he thought fo too Well, you ridi- 
culous thing you, I'll have you 1 won't be khTed, 

nor I won't be thanked Here, kifs my hand though 

So, hold your tongue now, don't fay a word. 

Mrs. Fain. Mirabell, there's a neceifity for your obe- 
dience ; 4 You have neither time to talk nor flay : 

* my mother is coming ; and in my confeience, if file 
4 fhould fee you, would fall into fits, and may be not 

* recover time enough to return to Sir Rowland, who 
' as Foible tells me, is in a fairway to fucceed.' There- 
fore fpare you extafies for another occafion, and flip 
down the back flairs, where Foible waits to confult you. 

Milla. Ay, ay, go. In the mean time I'll fuppofe 
you have faid fomething to pleafe me. 

F 2 Mira. 


Mira. I am all obedience. [Exit, 
\ Mrs. Fain. Yonder Sir Wil full's drunk, and fo noi:y, 
that my mother has been forced to leave Sir Rowland ro 
appeafe him ; but he anfwcrs her only with ffngirig and 

drinking What they may have done by this time I 

kn< w not ; but Petulant and he were upon quarrelling as 
I came by. 

Mill a. Well, if Mirabell fliould not make a good huf- 
band, I ain a loft thing -for I find I love him vio- 

Mrs, Fain. So it feems ; for you mind not what's faid 

to you. If you doubt him, you had beft take up with 

Sir Wdfull. 

Mi/la, How can you name that Superannuated lubber ? 
Foh ! 

Filter Witwoud front drinking. 
Mrs. Fain. So, is the fray made up, that you have left 
them } 

Wit. Left them ! I could (by no longer 1 have 

laughed like ten chriftenings- — I am tipfy with laughing 

If I had ibid any longer I Ihouki have burft 

I muft have been let out and pieced in the fides like an 

unfizel camblet — Yes, yes, the fray is compofed ; my 

lady came in like a noli j>rc/?(jui, and flopped the pro- 

Mitla. What was thedifpure ? 

Wit. That's the jell ; there was no difpute. They 
could neither of 'em fpeak for rage, and fo fell a fputter- 
ing at one another like two roafting apples. 

Enter Petulant drunk. 
Now, Peiu'ant, all's over, all's well. Gad, my head 
begins to whim it about— — Why doit thou not fpeak ? 
Thou art boih as drunk and as mute as a flh. 

Pet. Look you, Mrs. Millamant if you can love 

me, dear nymph — fay it — and that's the conclusion 

Pkfs on, or pais off that's all. 

Wit. Thou haft uttered volumes, folios, in lefs thaii 
elccimo ffxfo, my dear Lacedemonian. Sirrah, Petulant, 
thou art an epitomizer of words. 

Pet. Witwoud You arfe an annihilato'r of fenfe. 

Wit\ Thou art a retailer of phrafes ; and dolt deal in 

remnants of remnants, like a maker of pincufhions • 



Thou art, in truth, (metaphorically fpeaking) a fpeaker 
of mort hand. 

Pet. Thou art (without a figure) juft one half of an 
afs, and Baldwin yonder, thy half brother, is the reft — 
A Gemini of afles fplit wou'd make juft four of you. 

Wit. Thou doll bite, my dear m u Hard -feed ; kifs me 
for that. 

Pet. Stand off I'll kifs no more males 1 

have kifs'd your twin yonder in a humour of recon- 
ciliation, till he (hiuups) rifes upon my llomach like a 

Mllla. Eh! filthy creature— What was the quarrel? 

Pet. There was no quarrel There might have 

been a quarrel. 

Wit, If there had been words enow between 'em to 
have exprefs'd provocation, they had gone together by 
the ears like a pair of caftanets. 

Pet. You were the quarrel. 

Milla. Me! 

Pet. If I have a humour to quarrel, I can make lefs 
matters conclude premifes — Ir you are not handfome, 
what then ; if I have a humour to prove it ? If I fliall 
have my reward, fay fo ; if not, light for your face rlis 
next timeyourfelf I'll go ileep. 

Wit. Do, wrap thyfelf up like a wood-loufe, and 

dream revenge And, hear me, if thou cahft learn to 

write by to-morrow morning, pen me a challenge — ■ 
I'll carry it for thee. 

Pet. Carry your miftrefs's monkey a fpider ao ftea 

dogs, and read romances — I'll go to bed to my maid. 

Mrs. Fain. He's horridly drunk — How came vo; 

all in this pickle ? 

Wit. A plot, a plot, to get rid of the knight- — — 
Your hufband's advice, but hefneak'd off. 

Enter Sir Wilfull drunk; and Lady Wifhfort. 

Lady IV. Out upon't ! out upon't ! at years ofdiicre- 
tion, and comport yourfelf at this rantipole rate. 

Sir Wil. No offence, aunt. 

Lady W. Offence ! As I'm a perfon, I'm afham'd of 

you Fough ! how you If ink of wine ! D'ye think my 

niece will ever endure Inch a Borachio ! you're an abfo- 
lute Borachio ! 

- F 3 Sir mi. 



Sir Wit Borachio ! 

Lady fl^. At a time when you (hou'd commence an 
amour, and put your beft footforemoft 

Sir Wit, 'blieart, an you grudge me your liquor, make 
a bill Give me more drink, and take my purfe. 


f'ry'thec fill me the glafs 

'Till it laugh in my face, 
With ale that is potent and mellow ; 

He that whines tor a lafs 

Is an ignorant afs, 
For a bumper has not its fellow. 

But if you wou'd have me marry my coufin Say the 

word, and I'll do't Wilfull will do't, that's the word 

Wilfull will do't, that's my crelt my motto 

I have forgot. 

LadyW. My nephew's a little overtaken, coufin — but 

'tis with drinking your health O' my word you are 

oblig'd to him. 

Sir Wit. In vino Veritas, aunt: If I drink your 

health t to-day, coufin — I am a Borachio. But if you 
have a mind to be married, fay the word, and id d 
Jfor the piper ; Wilfull will do't. If not, dull it away, 

and let's have t'other round Tony! Ods heart where's 

Tony ? — Tony's an honeft fellow, but he fpits after a 
bumper, and that's a fault. 

Sings, We'll drink and we'll never have done, bovs, 
Put the t^lafs then around with the fun, boys, 

Let Apollo's example invite us j 
For he's drunk ev'ry night, 
And that makes him fo bright, 

That he's able next morning to light us. 

The fun's a good pimple, an honeit foaker, he has a 
cellar at your Antipodes. If I travel, aunt, I touch at 
the Antipodes — your Antipodes are a good raically^ 
fort of topfy-turvy fellows — If I had a bumper I'd 
Hand upon my head and drink a health to 'em — A 
match or no match, coufin, with the hard name — Aunt, 
Wilfull will do't. * If ihe has her maidenhead, let her 

4 look 



look to't ; if flie has not, let her keep her own coun- 
* fel in the mean time, and cry out at the nine month's 
4 end.' 

Milla. Your pardon, Madam, I can (lay no longer — 
Sir Wilfull grows very powerful. Egh ! how he fmells ! 
I mall be overcome if I ltay. Come, coufin. 

[Exeunt Milla. and Mrs. Fain. 

Lady IV. Smells ! he would poif >n a tallow-chandler 
and his family. Bcaflly creature ! 1 know not what to do 
with him — Travel, quotha ! ay, travel, travel, get thee 
gone ; get thee but far enough ; to the Saracens or the 
Tartars, or the Turks, for thou are't not fit to live in a 
Chriftian commonwealth, thou bealrly Pagan. 

Sir JVil. Turks ! no, no, Turks, aunt ; your Turks 
are Infidels, and believe not in the grape ; your Maho- 
metan, your Muflulman is a dry ftinkard — No offence, 
aunt. My map fays, that your Turk is not lb honeft a 
man as your Chriftian. I cannot rind by the map, that " 
your Mufti is orthodox ; whereby it is a plain cafe, that 
.orthodox is a hard word, aunt, and (hiccups) Greek for 

Sings. To drink is a Chriftian diverlion 

Unknown to the Turk and the Perfian j 

JLet Mahometan fools 

Live by Heathenifn rules, 
And be damn'd over tea- cups and coffee. 

But let Britifli lads ling 

Crown a health to the King, 
And a fig for your Sultan and Sophy. 

Ah, Tony ! 

{Enter Foible a?id whiffets Lady Wiflrfort. 
Lady IV. Sir Rowland impatient \ Good lack ! what 

fhall I do with this beaftly tumbril ?- Go lie down and 

lleep, you fot — Or, ; s I'm a perfon, I'll have you bafti- 
nado'd with broom-ilicks. Call up the wenches with 
broom -flicks. 

Sir IVH. Ahey ! wenches : where are the wenches ? 

LadyW. Dear coufin Wirwoud : get him away, and 
you will bind me to you inviolably. I have an affair of 

moment that invades me with fome precipitation U 

You will oblige me to all futurity. 




Wit. Come, knight Pox on. him, I don't know 

what to fay to him Will you go to a cock match ? 

Sir Wit. With a wench, Tony r h {he a fhake-bag, 
lirrah ? Let me bite your cheek for that. 

Wit. Horrible! he has a breath like a bagpipe — Ay, 
; ey, come, will you march, my Salopian ? 

Sir Wil. Lead on, little Tony I'll follow thee, my 

Anthony, my Tantony. Sirrah, thou (halt be my Tan- 
tony, and I'll be thy Pig. 

■■And a fig for your Sultan and Sophy. 

[Exeunt Sir Wil. and Wit. 

Lady W, This will never do. It will never make a 
match : — at leaft before he has been abroad. 

Enter Waitvvell difguisd as for Sir Rowland. 

Dear Sir Rowland, I am confounded with confu- 
lion at the retrofpe£tion of my own rudenefs — I have 
more pardons to alk than the Pope diilributes in the 
year of Jubilee. But I hope where there is likely to be 
fonear an alliance — we may unbend the feverity of de- 
corum — and difpenie with a little ceremony. 

Wait. My impatience, Madam, is the eftecl: of my 
tranfport — And till I have the pofiellion of your ado- 
rable perfon, I am tantaliz'd on the rack ; and do but 
hang, Madam, on the tenter of expectation. 

Lady W. You have excefs cf gallantry, Sir Row- 
land ; and prefs things to a conclunon, with a moll pre- 
vailing vehemence. — But a day or two tor decency of 

Wait. For decency of funeral, Madam. The delay 

will break my heart - — or, if that mould fail, I fhall 

be poifoned. My nephew will get an inkling of my de- 
figns, and poifon me - and I would willingly flarve him 

before I die 1 would giadly go out of the world with 

that fatisfaction That would be fome comfort to 

me, it I could but li\e fo long as to be reveng'd on that 
unnatural viper. 

LadyW. Is he fo unnatural, fay you ? Truly, I would 
contribute much both to the faving of your lite, and the 

accomplifhment of your revenge Not that I refpect 

mylelf ; tho* he has been a perfidious wretch to me. 

Wait, Perfidious to you 1 

Lady W. 


La-'y W. O Sir Rowland, the hours that he has died 
away at my feet, the tears that he has ihed, the oaths 
that he has iworn, the palpitations that he has felt, the 
trances and the tremblings, the ardours and the extafies, 
the kneeiings and the rifings, the heart-heavings and^ the 
hand-gripings, the pangs and the pathetic regards of his 
proteiling eyes ! Oh, no memory can regifter. 

Wait. What, my rival ! Is the rebel my rival ? a' 

Lady W. No don't kill him at once, Sir Rowland, 
itarve him gradually inch by inch. 

Wait. I'll do't. In three weeks he (hall be barefoot ; 

in a month out at knees wirh begging an alms He mall 

Itarve upward and upward, 'till he has nothing living but 
his head, and then go out in a {link like a candle's end 
upon a fave-all. 

LadyW. Well, Sir Rowland, you have the way — 
You are no novice in the labyrinth of love— You have 
the clue— But as I am a perfon, Sir Rowland, you 
mufl not attribute my yielding to any finifter appetite 
I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration 
of nuptials. 

Wait. Far be it from me 1 

Lady W. If you do, I proteft I mud: recede or 

think that I have made a proftitution of decorum ; but in 
the vehemence of companion, and to fave the life of a 
perfon of fo much importance. 

Wait. I efteem it fo. 

Lady W. Or elfe you wrong my condefcenlion.' — — . 

Wait. I do not, I do not m 

Lady W. Indeed you do. 

Wait. I do not, fair lhrine of virtue^ 

LadyW. If thou think the lealt fcruple of carnality 
was an ingredient ■■ • ■ • < > * i M 

Wait. Dear Madam, No. You are all camphire and 
frankincenfe, all charity and odour. 

Lady W. Or that ■ 

Enter Foible. 

FoUk Madam, 1 The dancers are ready, and* there's 
one with a letter, who muft deliver 'it into your own 

Lady W. 


Lady TV, Sir Rowland, will you give me leave ? Think 
favourably, judge candidly, and conclude you have found 
a perfon who would fufter racks in honour's caule, dear 
Sir Rowland, and will wait on you inceflantly. 

{Exit Lady W. 

Wait. Fy, fy '.—What a flavery have I unde gone > 
fpoufe, hail thou any cordial ? I want fpirits. 

Foib. What a wafhy rogue art thou, to pant thus for 
a quarter of an hour's lying and iwearing to a fine lady r 
■ Wait, O, flie is the antidote to delire. * Spoufe, thou 

* wilt fare the worfe for't 1 fhall have no appetite to 

4 iteration of nuptials — this eight and forty hours.' By 
this hand, I'd rather be a chairman in the dog-days, than 
ad Sir Rowland till this time to-morrow. 

Re enter Lady Wifhtorr, <with a letter. 
LadyW. 1 Call in the dancers; — Sir Rowland, we'll 

* fit, if you pleafe, and ice the entertainment. [Dance* 
Now, with your permiffion, Sir Rowland, I wiilperuf; 

my letter 1 would open it in your prefence, becaufe I 

would not make you imeafy. If it ihould make you un- 

eafy, I would burn it fpeak, if it does but you 

may fee the fuperfcription is like a woman's hand. 

Foib. By heaven ! Mrs. Marwood's, I know it — my 
heart akes Get it from her [To bim. 

Wait. A woman's hand ! No, Madam, that's no wo- 
man's hand, I fee that already. That's fome body whole 
throat muft be cut. 

Lady W. Nay, Sir Rowland, fince you give me a proof 
of yourpaffion, by your jealoufy, Ipromiieyou I'll make 

a return, by a frank communication you mall fee it— 

we'll open it together look you here. [Reads] '* Ma- 
dam, though unknown to you," Look you there, 'tis 
from no body that I know.—" I have that honour for 
your character, that I think myfelf obliged to let you 
know you are abufed. He who pretends to be Sir Row- 
land, is a cheat and a rafcal." Oh heavens 1 what's 
this ? 

Foib, Unfortunate, all's ruin'd. 

Wait. How, how, let melee, let me fee— [Reading,] 
«< A rafcal, and difguis'd and fuborn'd for that impo- 

flure" O villany ! O villany ! " by the contrivance 




Lady W. I (hall faint, I fhall die, oh ! 

Foih Say 'tis your nephew's hand—Quickly, his plot, 
(wear, fwear it. [To him. 

Wait. Here's a villain, Madam, don't you perceive it, 
don't you fee it ? 

Lady W. Too well, too well. I have feen too much. 

Wait. I told you at firit I knew the hand— A woman's 
hand ! The rafcal writes a fort of a large hand ; your 

Roman hand 1 faw there was a throat to be cut pre- 

fently. If he were my fon, as he is my nephew, I'd 
pillol him 

Foib. O treachery ! But are you fure, Sir Rowland, 
it is his writing ? 

Wait. Sure ! Am I here ? do I live ? Do I love this 
pearl of India ? I have twenty letters in my pocket irom 
him, in the fame character. 

Lady W. Hew ! 

Foib. O what luck it is, Sir Rowland, that you were 
prefent at this juncture ! This was the bufinefs that 
brought Mr. Mirabell difguis'd to Madam Millamant this 
afternoon. I thought fomething was contriving, when 
he Itole by me, and would have hid his face. 

Lady W. How, how 1 heard the villain was in the 

houfe, indeed ; and now I remember, my niece went 
away abruptly, when Sir Wiirull was to have made his 
add redes. 

Foib. Then, then Madam, Mr. Mirabell waited for 
her in her chamber ; but I would not tell your ladyftiip 
to difcompofe you when you were to receive Sir Row- 

Wait, Enough, his date is mort. 

Foib. No, good Sir Rowland, don't incur the law. 

Wait. Law ! I care not for law. I can but die, and 

'tis in a good caufe My lady (hall be iatisfied of my 

truth and innocence, though it coft me my life. 

Lady W. No, dear Sir Rowland, don't fight ; if you 
fhould be killed, I mull never (hew my face j 4 O con- 
' (icier my reputation, Sir Rowland. — No, you (han't 

* fight, I'll go in and examine my niece; I'll make her 

* comefs.' — I conjure you, Sir Rowland, by all your 
love, not to fight. 



Wait. I am charmed, Madam ; I obey. But foir.f 
,proof you muft let me give you. I'll go for a black box; 
which contains the writings of my whole ellate, and cle 
liver that into your hands. 

Lady W. Ay, dear Sir Rowland, that will be fome com- 
fort ; bring the black box. 

Wait. And may I prefume to bring a contract, to be 
figned this night ? May I hope fo far? 

Laily lV. Bring what ycu will ; but come alive. Pray, 
come alive. 4 Oh, this is a happy difcovery !' 

Walt. Dead or alive, I'll come ; and married we will 
be, in fpite of treachery ; ay, and get an heir that fliall 
defeat the laft remaining glim pie of hope in my aban- 
doned nephew. Come, my buxom widow : 

Ere long you (hall fubilantial proof receive 
That Tnvan arrant knight — ■ 

Foib. —« Or arrant knave. 


End of the Fourth Act. 

A C T V. 

SCENE continues. 
Enter Lady Wiftifort and Foible. 

Lady Wishfort. 

OUT of my houle, out of my houfe, thou viper, 
thou ferpenr, that I have loitered ; thou bofom 

traitrefs, that I raifed from nothing Begone, begone, 

begone, go, go — that I took from walking of old gauze, 
•and weaving of dead hair, with a bleak blue nofe, over a 
chafing-dlfh of (tarv'd embers, and dining behind a tra- 
verfe rag, in a (hop no bigger than a bird-cage. Go, go, 
ibarve again ; do, do. 

Foib. Dear Madam, I'll beg pardon on my knees. 
Lady W. Away, out, out; go, fet up for yourfeir 
again, do ; drive a trade, do, with your three-penny- 
worth of fmall ware, flaunting upon a pack-thread, un- 
der a brandy -feller's . bulk, or again ft a dead wall, by. a 
ballad-monger. Go, hang out an qjd frifoneer gorget, 
with a yard of yellow colberteen again, do j an old 
4 gnawed 


gnawed mafk, two rows of pins, and a child's fiddle ; a 
glafs necklace, with the beads broken, and a quilted night- 
cap, with one ear ; go,- go, drive a trade. Thefe were 
your commodities, you treacherous trull ; this was tht 
merchandife you dealt in, when I took you into my houfe, 
placed you next myfeif, and made you governance of my 
whole family. You have forgot this, have you, now you 
have feathered your neft ? 

Foib. No, no, dear Madam. Do but hear me ; have 
but a moment's patience ; I'll confefsall. Mr. Mirabell 
leduced me. I am not the firft that he has wheedled vvirh 
his diflembling tongue : your ladyfliip's own wifdom has 
been deluded by him ; then how fliould I, a poor igno- 
rant, defend myfeif? Oh, Madam, if you knew but what 
he promifed me, and how he allured me your ladyfhJp 
fhould come to no damage ! or elfe the wealth of the In- 
dies mould not have bribed me to confpire againit fo good, 
fo fweet, fo kind a lady as you have been to me. 

Lady W. No damage ! What, to betray me, to marry 
metoacaft ferving-man ; to make me a receptacle, an 
hofp'tal for a decayed pimp! No damage ! Oh, thou 
frontlefs impudence, 4 more than a big-bellied actrefs !* 

Foib. Pray, do but hear me, Madam. He could not 
marry your ladyfhip, Madam : no, indeed, his marriage 
was to have been void in law ; for he was married to me 
firif, to fecure your ladyfhip. He could not have bedded 
your ladyfhip ; for if he had confum mated with your ia- 
dyfhip, he muft have run the rifque of the law, and been 
put. upon his clergy — Yes, indeed, I enquired of the law, 
in that cafe, before I would meddle or make. 

Lady IV. What, then, I have been your property, 
have I ? I have been convenient to you, it feern=, while 
you were catering for Mirabell. I have been broker for 
you. What, have you made a paffive bawd of me ? This 
exceeds all precedent. I am brought to fine ufes, to be 
come a botcher of fecond-hand marriages between Abi- 
gails and Andrews. I'll couple you j yes, I'll bafte you 
together, you and your Philander. I'll Duke's-Place 
you, as I'm a perion. Your turtle is in cuftody already : 
you fliall coo in the fame cage, if there be conitable'or 
warrant in the parifh. [ tJciu 


Folh. Oh, that ever I was born ! Oh, that ever I wai 
married ! — A bride ! ay, I (hall be a Bridewell bride. Oh I 
Enter Mrs. Fainall. 

Mrs. Fain. Poor Foible ! what's the matter ? 

Foib. Oh, Madam, my Lady's gone for a conlhble ! I 
fhall be had to a julKce, and put to Bridewell, to beat 
hemp. Poor Waitwell's gone to prifon already. 

Mrs. Fain. Have a good heart, Foible; Mirabell is 
gone to give fecurity for him. This is all Marwood's 
and my huiband's doing. 

Foib. Yes, I know it, Madam ; me was in my Lady's 
clofet, and overheard all that you faid to me before din- 
ner. She fent the letter to my Lady ; and that miffing 
effect, Mr. Fainall laid this plot to arreft Waitwell, when 
he pretended to go for the papers ; and in the mean time, 
Mrs. Mar wood declared all to my Lady. 

Mrs. Fain. Was there no mention made of me in the 
letter ? My mother does not fufpecl my being in the 
confederacy : I fancy Marwood has not told her, tho* 
(he has told my hufband, 

Foib, Yes, Madam ; but my Lady did not fee that 
part : we fliiied the letter before flie read fo far. Has 
that mifchievous devil told Mr. Fainail of your ladyftiip, 
then ? 

Mrs. Fain. Ay, all's out, my affiiir with Mirabell, every 
thing difcovered. This is the lait day of our living to- 
gether, that's my comfort. 

Foib. Indeed, Madam, and fo it is a comfort, if you 
knew all. He has been even with your ladyfhip ; which 
I could have told you long enough (ince ; but I love to 
keep peace and quietnefs by my good will. I had rather 
bring friends together, than fet them at a diftance. But 
Mrs. Marwood and he are nearer related than ever their 
parents thought for, 

Mrs. Fain. Sayft thou fo, Foible ? Canfl: thou prove 
this ? 

Foib. I can take my oath of it, Madam, fo can Mrs. 
Mincing; we have had many a fair word from Madam 
Marwood, to conceal fomething that pa{fed in our cham- 
ber, one evening, when you were at Hyde Park ; and we 
were thought to have gone a walking ; but we went up 
unawares—Though we were fworn to fecrecy too ; Madam 




Marwood took a book, and fwore us upon it ; but it was 
but a book of poems : fo long as it was not a bible-oath, 
we may break it with a fafe confcience. 

Mrs. Fain. This difcovery is the moft opportune thing 

I could wilh. Now, Mincing 

Enter Mincing. 
Mine. My Lady would fp^ak with Mrs. Foible, Mem. 
Mr. Mirabell is with her : he has let your fpouie at li- 
berty, Mrs. Foible, and would have you hide yourfelf m 
my Lady's clofet, till my old Lady's anger is abated. Oh, 
my old Lady is in a perilous paffiori at Something Mr. 

Fainallhas faid He fwears, and my old Lady cries. 

There's a fearful hurricane, 1 vow. He lays, Mem, how 
that he'll have my Lady's fortune made over to him, or 
he'll be divorced. 

Mrs. Fain. Docs your Lady, or Mirabell, know thai > 

Mine. Yes, Mem ; they have fent me to fee if Sir Wil- 
full be fober, and to bring him to them. My Lady is re- 
folved to have him, I think, rather than lofe fuch a vait 
fum as fix thoufand pounds. Oh, come, Mrs, Foible ; X 
hear my old Lady. 

Mrs. Fain. Foible, you muft tell Mincing, that (he 
muft prepare to vouch, when I call her. 

Foib. Yes, yes, Madam. 

Mine. Oh, yes, Mem, I'll vouch any thing for youria- 
clyfhip's fervice, be what it will. [ Ex. Foib. and Mine. 
Enter Lady Wifhfort and Marwood. 

Lady W. Oh, my dear friend ! how can I enumerate the 
benefits that I have received from your goodnefs ? To 
you I owe the timely difcovery of the falie vows of Mi- 
rabell ; to you I owe the detection of the impoftor, Sir 
Rowland; and now you are become an interceflbr with 
my foh-in-law, to fave thehonourof my houfe, and com- 
pound for the frailties of my daughter. Well, friend, 
you are enough to reconcile me to the bad world, or elfe I 
would retire to defarts and folitudes, and Feed harmlefs 
{heep by groves and purling ftreams. Dear Marwood, 
let us leave the world, and retire by ourfelves, and be 

Mrs. Mar. Let us firft difpatch the affair in hand, Ma- 
dam ; we fhall have leifure to think of retirement after- 
wards. Here is one who is concerned in the treaty. 

G z Ladj 


LaJy IF. Oh, daughter, daughter ! is it poffible thou' 
fheuldii he my child, bone of my bone, and nefh of my 
fie (h, and, as I may fay, another Me, and yet tranfgreis 
the molt minute particle of fevere virtue P 1 Is it poffible 

* you fhould lean a fide to iniquity, who have been cad in 
4 the direct mould of virtue ? I have not only been a 

* mould, but a pattern for you, and a modd for you, af- 
4 ter you were brought into the world. ' 

. Mrs. Fain. I don't underhand your ladyfhip. 

■Lacy Wl Not underltand ! Why, have yon not been 
•aught? Have you not been fophiiticated ? Not under- 
hand ! Here I am ruined to compound for your caprices 
and your cuckoldums. I mud pawn my plate and my 
jewels, and ruin my niece, and all little enough 

Mis, Fain. I'm wronged and abided, and fo are you. 
' fis a falfe accufation, as falfe as hell, as faife as your 
friend there, ay, or your friend's friend, my falfe huf- 

Mrs. Mar. My friend, Mrs. Fainall ! Your hufband 
my friend ! What do you mean ? . 

Mrs. Fain, I know what I mean, Madam, and fo do 
you ; and fo fhall the world, at a time convenient. 

Mrs. Mar. I am forry to fee you fo paffionate, Madam. 
51 ore temper would look mo e like innocence. . But I 
have .done. I am forry my zeal to ferye your ladyihip 
nnd family, fhould admit of mdconii ruction, or make me 
liable to affronts. You will pardon me, Madam, if I 
meddle no more with an alfair, in which I am not per- 
fonally concerned. 

La-i'y TV. Oh, dear friend ! I am fo afhamed that you 
{hould meet with fuch returns You ought to alk par- 
don on your knees, ungrateful creature! ftie deferves 
more from you, than all your life can accomplifh. Oh, 
don't Itawe me dciHiute in this perplexity. No, flick to 
ipe, my good genius. 

Mrs. Fain. I tell you, Madam, you're abufed. Stick 
to you 1 ay, like a leach, to fuck yourbeft blood — flie'U 
drop ojtF when (lie's full. Madam, you (han't pawn a bod- 
kin, nor part with a brafs counter, in compofition for me. 
I defy them all. Let them prove their afperlions. I 
know my own innocence, and dare {land a trial. [Exit, 

Fatly IF, Why, if me (hould be innocent \ if fte lhould 



■*be wronged after all, ha ? 1 don't know what 

to think——* And, I promife you, her education 

* has been very unexceptionable. I may fay it : for 
4 I chiefly made it my own care to initiate her very 
4 infancy in the rudiments of virtue, and to impreis 
4 upon her tender years a young odium and averfion to 

4 the very fight of men ay, friend, me would ha* 

4 fhriek'd, if fhe had but feen a man, till fhe was in her 
4 teens. As I'm a perfon, 'tis true. She was never fuf- 
4 fered to play with a male child, tho' but in coats; nay, 
4 her very babies were of the feminine gender. Oh, fhe 
4 never looked a man in the face, but her own father, or 
4 the chaplain, and him we made a fhift to put upon her 
4 for a woman, by the help or his long garments, and his 
4 fleek face, 'till lhe was going in her fifteen. 

* Mrs, Mar, Twasmuch lhe fliould be deceived Co 
4 long. 

* Laay IV. I warrant you, or die would never have 
4 borne to have been catechized by him, and have heard 

* .his long lectures againft linging and dancing, and fueU 

* debaucheries ; and going to filthy plays, and profane 
4 mufic-meetings, where the lewd trebles fqueak nothing 
4 but bawdy, and the bafles roar blafphemy. Oh, fhe 
4 would have fwooned at the fight or name of an ob- 
4 fcene play-book ! Andean I think, after all this, that 
4 my daughter can be naught? What, a whore, and 
4 thought it excommunication to let her foot within the 
4 door of a playhoufe r Oh, dear friend, I can't believe 
it ! No, no, as fhe lays, let hinr prove it, let him prove it, 

Mrs. Mar. Prove it, Madam ! what, and have your 
name proftituted in a public court : yours and your daugh- 
ter's reputation worried at the bar, by a pack of bawhV. T 
lawyers ? To be ufliered in with an O Yes of fcandal; * and 

* have your cafe opened by an old fumbling letcher in a 
4 coif,likea man-midwife, tobring yourdaughter's infamy 
4 to light ; to be a theme for legal punllers, and rjuibblera 
4 by the Itatute ; and become a jeft, againft a rule of court, 
4 where there is no precedent for a jell in any record, 
4 not even in Doomitiay-book ; to difcompofe the gravity 
4 of the bench, and provoke naughty interrogatories in 

* more naughty law Latin ; while the good judge, tick- 
4 led with the proceeding, iimpers under a grey heard. 

G 3 4 ani 


4 and fidges off and on his cufhion, as if he had fvvallowed 

* cantharides, or fat upon cow-itch.' . 
Lady H\ Oh, 'tis very hard ! / 

* Mrs. Mar, And then to have my young revellers of 

* the Temple take notes, like 'prentices at a conventicle, 

* and after talk it over again in Commons, or before draw- 

* ers in an eating-houfe. 

* Lady IV. Wcrfe and worfe !' 

Mrs. Mar. Nay, this is nothing ; if it would end here 
'twere well. But it mull, after this, be configned by the 
ft. ort-hard writers to' the public preis ; and from thence 
be transferred to the hands, nay, into the throats and 
lungs of hawkers, * w th voices more licentious than the 
*■ loud ilounder-man's :' and this you mull hear till you 
are Itunned ; nay, you muft hear nothing elfe fur fome 

Lady W. Oh, 'tis infupportable ! No, no, dear friend,, 
make it up, make it up ; ay, ay, I'll compound ; I'll give 
up all, myfelf and my all, my niece and her all ; any thing, 
every thing for compofition. 

Mrs. Mar. Nay, Madam, I advife nothing ; I only lay 
before you, as a friend, the inconveniencies which, per- 
haps, you have overieen. Here comes Mr. Fainall ; if 
he will be fatisfied to huddle up all in filence, I (ball be 
gh:d. You muft think I would rather congratulate than 
condole with you. 

Enter Fainall. 

Lady W. Ay, ay, I do not doubt it, dear Marwood. 
No, no, I do not doubt it. 

Fahi. Well, Madam, I have fuffered myfelf to be over- 
come by the importunity of this lady, your triend ; and 
am content you mall enjoy your own proper eftate during 
life, on condition you oblige yourfelf never to marry, 
under fuch penalty as I think convenient. 

Lady W. Never to marry ! 

Faz'?i. No more Sir Rowlands— the next impofture may 
not be fo timely detected. 

* Mrs. Mar. That condition, I dare anfwer, my Lady 

* will content to, without difficulty ; (he has already but 
4 too much experienced the perfidioufnefs of men. Be-. 

* fides, Madam, when we retire to our paftoral folitude, 

* we (hall bid adieu to all other thoughts. 

1 Lnty 


* Lady W, Ay, that's true ; but in cafe of neceffity, 

* as of health, or tome fuch emergency 

4 Fain, Oh, if you are prefcribed marriage, you fhall be 

* confidered ; I will only referve to myfelf the power to 
' choofe for you. If your phyfic be wholefome, it mat- 

* ters not who is your apothecary.' Next, my wife (hall 
fettle on me the remainder of her fortune, not made over 
a 1 ready ; and for her maintenance depend entirely on my 
d icretion. 

. Lady W. This is moll inhumanly favage ; 4 exceeding 

* the barbarity of a Mufcpvire hufcrnd.' 

. Vain. * I learned it from his Czarifh majeity's retinue, 

* in a winter evening's conference, over brandy and pep- 

* per, amongfl other fecrets of matrimony and policy, as 

* they are at prefent pracYifed in the northern hemifphere. 
4 But this mull be agreed unto, and that pofitively.' 
Laftly, I will be endowed, in right of my wife, with that 
fix thoufand pounds, which is the moiety of Mrs. Milla- 
m mt's fortune in your poffeffion ; and which (lie has for- 
feited (as will appear by the laft will and teftament of your 
deceafed hufband, Sir Jonathan Wilhfort) for her difobe- 
dience, in contracting herfelf without your confent or 
knowledge ; and by refuting the offered match with Sir 
Wilfull Witwoud, which you, like a careful aunt, had 
provided for her. 

Lady IV. My nephew was non compos, and could not 
make his addrelfes. 

Fain. I come to make demands I'll hear no ob' 


Lady W. You will grant me time to conlider ? 

Fain. Yes, while the inftrument is drawing, to which 
you muft fet your hand till more fufficient deeds can be 
perfected ; which I will take care mall be done with all 
poffible fpeed. In the mean while, I will go for the faid 
inftrument; and, till my return, you may balance this 
matter in your own discretion. {Exit. 

Lady W. This infolence is beyond all precedent, all 
parallel ! Muft I be fubject to this mercilefs villain ? 

Mrs. Mar. 'Tis fevere indeed, Madam, that youfhould 
fmart for your daughter's wantonnefs. 

Lady IF. Twas againft my confent that Hie married 
this barbarian ; but me would have him, tho' her year was 



not out Ah, her firft hulband, my fon Languifh, 

would not have carried it thus. Well, that was my choice, 

this is hers ; fhe is matched now with a witnefs 1 

ihall be mad ; dear friend, is there no comfort 
for me ? Muft I live to be confifcated at this rebel-rate ? 

Here come two more of my Egyptian plagues 


Enter Millamant and Sir WilfulL 
Sir WiU Aunt, your fervant. 

Lady W. Out, caterpillar, call not me aunt ? I know 
you not. 

Sir WiL I confefs I have been a little in difguife, as 

they fay 'Sheart, and I'm lorry for't. What would 

you have ? I hope I committed no offence, aunt and 

if I did, lam willing to make fatisfaclion ; and what can 
a man fay fairer r* If I have broke any thing I'll pay 
for't, an it colt a pound. And fo let that content for 
what's paff, and make no more words. For what's to 
come, to pleafure you I'm willing to marry my coufin. 
So prsy let's all be friends, fhe and I are agreed upon 
the matter before a witnefs. 

Lady W. How's this, dear niece ? Have I any com- 
fort ? Can this be true ? 

Milla. I am content to be a facrifice to your repofe, 
Madam, and to convince you that I had no hand in the 
plot, as you are mifinformed, I have laid my commands 
on Mirabell to come in perfon, and be a witnefs that 
I give my hand to this flower of knighthood ; and for 
the contract that paned between Mirabell and me, I have 
obliged him to make a refignation of it in your Lady- 

fhip's prefence He is without, and waits your leave 

for admittance. 

Lady W. Well, I'll fwear I am fomething revived at 
this teftimony of your obedience ; but I cannot admit 
that traitor— I fear I cannot fortify myfelf to fupport 
his appearance. He is as terrible to me as a Gorgon ; 
if I fee him, I fear I fhall turn to ftone, petrify incef- 

Milla. If you difoblige him, he may refent your re- 
fufal, and inlift upon the Contract ftill. Then 'tis the 
laft time he will be oifenfive to you. 



' J..adyW. Are you fure it will be the laft time ? — If I 

were lure of that fhall I never fee him again ? 

Milla. Sir WilfulJ, you and he are to travel together, 
are you not ? 

Sir WiL 'Sheart, the gentleman's a civil gentleman ; 
aunt, let him come in ; why we are fworn brothers and 

fellow travellers. We are to be Pylades and Oreftes, 

he and I He is to be my interpreter in foreign parts. 

He has been over-feas once already-; and with provifo 
that I marry my couiin, will crofs 'em once again, only 

to bear me company. 'Sheart, 1*11 call him in— an 

I let on't once, he Hiall come in ; and lee who'll hinder 
hi m . [Goes to the door and hems* 

Mrs. Mar. This is precious tooling, if it would pafs ; 
but I'll know the bottom of it. 

Lady W. Oh, dear Marwood, you are not going ? 

Mrs. Mar. Not far, Madam ; I'll return immediately, 

[Exit Airs. Mar. 

Sir Wil. Look up, man, I'll Hand by you ; 'fbud an me 

do frown, (he can't kill you ; befides harkee, fhe 

dare not frown defperately, becaufe her face is none of 
her own ? 'Sheart, an Ihe mould, her forehead would 
wrinkle like the coat of a cream cheefe j but mum for 
that, fellow-traveller. 

Mira. If a deep fenfe of the many injuries I have of- 
fered to fo good a lady, with a lincere remorfe, and a 
hearty contrition, can but obtain the lead glance of com- 
panion, I am too happy 4 Ah, Madam, there was a 

* time — but let it be forgotten — I confefs I have defer- 
4 vedly forfeited the high place I once held or" lighing at 
4 your feet ; nay, kill me not, by turning from me in 
4 ' difdain — I come not to plead for favour ; nav, not for 
4 pardon; I am fuppliant only for pity' — 1 am going 
where I never (hall behold you more 

Sir Wil'. How, fellow-traveller?-- You {hall go 

by yourfelf then. 

Mira. Let me be pitied fiift, and afterwards forgotten 
— - 1 alk no more. 

Six Wil. By'r Lady, a very reafonable requeft, and 

will colt you nothing, aunt Come, come, forgive and 

forget, aunt ; why you muft an you are a Chriftian. 

Mira. At leaft think it is punilhment enough, that I 
have lolt what in my heart 1 hold moll dear ; that to 



your cruel indignation I have offered up this beauty, and 
with her my peace and quiet j nay, all my hopes of fu- 
ture comfort. 

Sir Wil, An he does not move me, would I may never 

be of the Quorum An it were not as good a deed as 

to drink, to give her to him again, 1 would I might 

never take (hipping Aunt, if you don't forgive quick- 

fy, I (hall melt, I can tell you that, my contract went 
no farther than a little mouth-glue, and that's hardly 

dry : one doleful figh more from my fellow-traveller, 

and 'tis dillblved. 

Lady. Well, nephew, upon your account Ah, he 

has a falfe infinuating tongue Well, Sir, I wiliftifle 

my juft refentment at my nephew's requeft 1 will 

endeavour what I can to forget but on provifo that 

you refign the contract with my niece immediately. 

Mira. It is in writing, and with papers of concern ; 
but I have fent my fervant for it, and will deliver it to 
you, with all acknowledgments for your tranfcendent 

* L. W. Oh, he has witchcraft in his eyes and tongue j 

* when I did not fee him, I could have bribed a villain 

* to his aflaflination ; but his appearance rakes the em- 

* bers which have fo long lain (mothered in my breaft.* 


Enter Mr, Fainall and Mrs. Marwood. 

Fain. Your date of deliberation, Madam, is expired. 
Here is the inftrument ; are you prepared to fign ? 

LadylW. If I were prepared, I am not impowered. 
My niece exerts a lawful claim, having matched heifelf 
by my directions to Sir Wilfull. 

Fain. That fham is too grofs to pafs on me though 
'tis impofed upon you, Madam. 

Milla. Sir, I have given my confent. 

Mira. And, Sir, I have refigned my pretenfions. 

Sir Wil. And, Sir, I alTert my right ; and will main- 
tain it in defiance of you, Sir, and of your inftrument. 
'Sheart an you talk of an inftrument, Sir, I have an old 
fox by my thigh (hall hack your inftrument of ram vel- 
lum to flireds, Sir. It (hall not be fufficient for a mitti- 
mus, or a taylor's meafure ; therefore withdraw your 
inftrument, or by'r Lady I ihall draw mine. 


Lady W. Hold, nephew, hold. 

Milla. Good Sir Wilfull, refpite your valour. 

Fain, Indeed ! Are you provided of your guard, with 
your (ingle beaf-eater there. But I'm prepared for you ; 
and infift upon the firft propoial. You (hall fubmit your 
own eftate to my management, and abfolutely make 
over my wife's to my fole ufe ; as purfuant to the pur- 
port and tenor of this other covenant — I fuppofe, Ma- 
dam, your confent is not requifite in this cafe ; nor, Mr. 
Mirabell, your refignation ; nor, Sir Wilfull, your right. 
——You may draw your fox if you pleafe, Sir, and 
make a bear-garden flourim fomewhere elfe : for here 
it will not avail. This, my lady Wilhfort, muft be fub- 
fcribed, or your darling daughter's turned a-drift, like 
a leaky hulk, to fink or fwim, as (he and the current of 
this lewd town can agree. 

Lady IV. 4 Is there no means, no remedy to flop my 
* ruin ?' Ungrateful wretch ! doit thou not owe thy be- 
ing, thy fubfiftence, to my daughter's fortune ? 

Fain. I'll anfwer you when I have the reft of it in my 

Mira. But that you would not accept of a remedy 
from my hands — 1 I own I have not deferved you Ihould 
' owe any obligation to me;' or elfe perhaps I could ad- 

Lady W. Oh, what? what ? To fave me and my child 
from ruin, from want, I'll forgive all that's paft ; nay, 
I'll confent to any thing to come, to be delivered from 
this tyranny. 

Mira, Ay, Madam : but that's too late, my reward 
is intercepted. You have difpofed of her, who only could 

have made me a compenfation for all my fervices : 

But be it as it may, I am refolved I'll ferve you ; you 
fliall not be wronged in this favage manner. 

Lady W, How ! Dear Mr. Mirabell ? Can you be fo 
generous at laft ! But it is not poffible. Harkee, I'll 
break my nephew's match ; you fhall have my niece yet, 
and all her fortune, if you can but fave me from this 
imminent danger. 

Mira. Will you ? I take you at your word. I alk no 
more. I muft have leave for two criminals to appear. 

Lady JV, Ay, ay, any body, any body. 



Mira. Foible is one, and a penitent. 

Enter Mrs. Fainail, Foible, and Mincing. 

Mrs. Mar. Oh, my fhame ! Thefe corrupt things arc 
brought hither to expofe me. [To Fain. 

[Mira. and Lady go to Mrs, Fain and Yoib. 

Fain. If it mud all come out, why let them know it ; 
'tis but the Way of the World. That (hall not urge me 
to relinquifli or abate one tittle of my terms ; no, I will 
Infill the more. 

Foil, Yes indeed, Madam, I'll take my bible oath of 


Mitt. And fo will I, Mem. 

Lady W. Oh, Marwood, Marwood, art thou falfe ? 
My friend deceive me ! Halt thou been a wicked accom- 
plice with that profligate man ? 

Mrs. Mar. Have you fo much ingratitude and injuliice, 
to give credit againlt your friend to the afperfions of two 
fuch mercenary trulls ? 

Mine. Mercenary, Mem! I fcorn your words. ' Tis 
true we found you and Mr. Fainail in the blue garret; 
by the fame token, you fvvore us to fecrecy upon Mef- 
falina's poems. Mercenary ! No, if we would have been 
mercenary, we Ihould have held our tongues ; you would 
have bribed us fufficiently. 

Fain. Go, you are an infignificant tiling Weil, 

what are you the better for this? Is this Mr. Mirabell's 

expedient; I'll be put off no longer You, thing, 

that was a wife., mall fmart for this. I will not leave 
thee wherewithal to hide thy frame : your body inall be 
naked as your reputation. 

Mrs'.Yain. I defpife you, and defy your malice— You 
have afperfed me wrongfully-— I have proved your falfe - 
hood — Go, you and your treacherous — I will not name 
It, but ftarve together Perhh. 

Fain. Not while you are worth a groat, indeed, my 
dear. Madam, I'll be too I'd no longer. 

Lady IV. Ah, Mr. Mirabell, this is fmall comfort, the 
detection of this affair. 

Mira. O, in good time your leave for the other 

offender and penitent to appear, Madam. 

Enter Wait well, VMtb a box of writings* 

L. m O, Sir Rowland Well, rafcal. 

4 Wait* 


Wait, What your ladyftiip pleafes — I have brought the 
black box at laft, Madam. 

Mir a. Give it me. 1 Madam, you remember your 

* promife. 

< Lady W, Ay, dear Sir/ 
Mira. Where are the gentlemen ? 
Wait, At hand, Sir, rubbing their eyes— juft rifen 
from lleep. 

Fain. 'Sdeath, what's this to me ? Til not wait your 
private concerns. 

Enter Petulant and Witwoud. 

Pet. How now ? What's the matter ? Whofe hand's 
out ? 

Wit. Hey-day ! what are you all got together, like 
players at the end of the laft a£t ? 

■Mira, You may remember, gentlemen, I once requeu- 
ed your hands as witnefles to a certain parchment. 

Wit. Ay, I do, my hand I remember. — Petulant fet 
his mark. 

Mira. You wrong him, his name is f.-iirly written, as 

mall appear you do not remember, gentlemen, any 

thing of what the parchment contained ■ 

[ Undoing the box. 

Wit. No. 

Vet. Not I. I writ, I read nothing. 

Mira. Very well, now you (hall know — 4 Madam, 

* your promife. 

* Lady W, Ay, ay, Sir, upon my honour.' 

Mira, Mr. Fainall, it is now time that you fliould 
know, that your lady, while (he was at her own difpofal, 
and before you had by your infinuations wheedled her out 
of a pretended fettlement of the greateft part of her for- 

Fain, Sir ! pretended 1 

Mira, Yes, Sir. I fay that this lady, while a widow, 
having, it feems, received fome cautions refpecting your 
inconftancy and tyranny of temper, ' which from hef 

* own partial opinion and fondnefs of you, Hie could 
4 never have fu (pecked,' Ihe did, I fay, by the wholfome 
advice of friends, and of fages learned in the laws of this 
land, deliver this fame , as her act and deed, to me in truft, 
and to the ufes within mentioned. You may read, if you 

H pleafe 



Pleafe [Holding out the parchment] though perhaps 

what is written on the back may ferve your occafions. 

Fain. Very likely, Sir. What's here ? Damnation ! 
[Reads.'] " A deed of conveyance of the whole eftate 
real of Arabella Languifh, widow, in truft to Edward 
Mirabell." Confufion! 

Mira. Even, fo, Sir, 'tis the Way of the World, Sir; 
of the widows of the world. I fuppoie this deed may 
bear an elder dale than what you have obtained from ycur 

Fain. Perfidious fiend ! then thus I'll be reveng'd— - 
[Offers to run at Mrs. Fain. 

Sir Wil. Hold, Sir ! now you may make your bear- 
garden flourifh fomewhere elfe, Sir. 

Fain. Mirabell, you mall hear of this, Sir, be fure 
you fliall Let me pafs, oaf. [Exit. 

Mrs. Fain. Madam, you feem to ftifle your refent- 
ment : you had better give it vent. 

Mrs. Mar. Yes, it fliall have vent — and to your 
confufion, or I'll perifli in the attempt. [Exit Mrs. Mar. 

Lady W. O daughter, daughter, 'tis plain thou hail in- 
herited thy mother's prudence. 

Mrs. Fain. Thank Mr. Mirabell, a cautious friend, 
to whofe advice all is owing. 

Lady W. Well, Mr. Mirabell, you have kept your 

promife,— and I muft perform mine. Firfl, I pardon, 

for your fake, Sir Rowland there, and Foible The 

next thing is to break the matter to my nephew — and how 
to do that 

Mira. For that, Madam, give yourfelf no trouble, — 
let me have your conftnt — Sir Wilfull is my friend ; he 
has had companion upon lovers, and generoully engaged 
a volunteer in this a&ion, for our fervice ; and now de- 
iigns to profecute his travels. 

Sir Wil. 'Sheart, aunt, I have no mind to marry. 
My couiin's a fine lady, and the gentleman loves her, 
and (he loves him, and they deferve one another ; my 
refolution is to fee foreign parts— I have fet on't 
and when I'm fet on't, I muft do't. And if thefe two 
gentlemen wou'd travel too, I think they may be fpared. 

Pet. For my part, I fay little— I think things are beft 
off or not. 



Wit, I gad, I underftand nothing of the matter— I' m 
in a maze yet, like a dog in a dancing-fchool. 

Lady IV. Well, Sir, take her, and with her all the 
joy I can give you. 

Milla* Why does not the man take me ? Would you 
have me give myfelf to you over again ? 

Mlra. Ay, and over and over again ; [KiJJhs her hand.] 
I would have you as often as potfibly I can. Well heaven 
grant I love you not too well, that's all my fear. 

Sir Wil. 'Sheart, you'll have time enough to toy after 
you're marry'd ; ' or if you will toy now, let us have a 
4 dance in the mean time ; that we who are not lovers 
4 may have fome other employment befides looking on. 

* Mlra. With all my heart, dear Sir Wilfuli. What 

* mall we do for nnific ? 

' Foil. O, Sir, fome that were provided for Sir Row- 

* land's entertainment, are yet within call. [A dance. r 
Lady W. As I am a perfon I can hold out no longer — I 

* have wafted my fpirits fo to-day already, that I am ready 
4 to fink under the fatigue ; and' I cannot but have fome 
fear upon me yet, that my fon Fainall, will purfue fome 
defperate courie. 

Mira. Madam, difquiet not yourfelf on that account; 
to my knowledge, his circumftancs are fuch, he muft 
of force comply ; 4 for my part I will contribute all 
' that in me lies, to a re-union.* In the mean time, 
Madam, [To Mrs. Fain.} let me, before thefe witnefles, 
reftore to you this deed of truft ; it may be a means, well 
managed, to make you live ealily together. 

From hence let thofe be wam'd, who mean to wed ; 

Left mutual falfliood ftain the bridal-bed : 

For each deceiver to his coft may find, 

That marriage-frauds, too oft are paid in kind. 


End of the Fifth Act. 


yJFTER our Epilogue ibis croud difmiffes, 

I'm thinking bow this play' 11 be pull'd to pieces* 
But pray confider, e' re you doom its fall, 
How hard a thing 'twould he, to pleafeyou all, 
There are feme critics fo with fpleen difeas'd, 
They f care fly come, inclining to be phased: 
And Jure he mujl have more than mortal fkill, 
Who pleafes arty one againjl his will. 
Then all bad poets, we are Jure are foes, 
And how their number's fweWd, the town well knows 
Jnjhoals, I've mark'd 'cm, judging in the pit j 
Tho* they're on no pretence for judgment fit, 
But that they have been damn d for want of wit* 
Since when, they, by their own offences taught, 
Set up for fpies on plays, and finding fault. 
Others there are, whofe malice we'd prevent ; 
Such, who watch plays, with fcurrilous intent 
To mark out who by characters are meant : 
And tho' no perfeel likenefs they can trace ; 
Tat each pretends to know the copv'd face, 
Thefe, with falfe gloffi-s, feed their own ill- nature. 
And turn to libel, w/.at was ;nca?it a fatire. 
May fuch fnaLcious fops this fortune find, 
To think the?nfilves alone the fools defign'd t 
If a?iy are fo arrogantly vain, 
To think they fingly can fupport a fccne } 
And furnijh fool enough to entertain. 
For Well the learn d and the judicious know, 
That fatire fco'ms to fioop fo meanly low, 
As any one abraded fop to few. 
For, as when painters form a mat 'chiefs face, 
They fro?n each fair one, catch fame different grace 
.And finning features in one portrait blend f 
To which no Jingle biauty mujl pretend : 
So poets o ft, do in one piece cxpofe, 
fFhole belles aflemblees of coasts and bean, 

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to her Royal Highnefs the 4 



THAT high tfation, which, by your birth, you 
hold above the people, exacts from every one, as 
a duty, whatever honours they are capable of paying to- 
your Royal Highnefs: but that more exalted place, to 
which your virtues have raifed you, above the reiV ok 
princes, makes the tribute of our admiration and praife, 
rather a choice, more immediately preventing that duty. 
The public gratitude is ever founded on a public benefit 
and what is univerially blelfed, is always an uriiverfal 
bleffing.. Thus, from yourfelf we derive the offerings 
which we bring ; and that incenfe which arifes to your 
name, only returns to its original, and but naturally re- 
quires the parent of its being. 

From hence it is,, that this poem, comlituted on a 
moral whole end it is to recommend and to encourage 
virtue, of confequence, has recourfe to your Royal 
Highnefs's patronage ; afpiring to caft itfelr* beneath your* 
feet, and declining approbation, 'till you lhall conde- 
fcend to own it, and vouchfafe to mine upon it, as on a. 
creature of your influence. 

It is from the example of princes, that virtue become* 
a fafhion in the people ; for even they who are averfe to 
inftruction, will yet be fond of imitation. 

But there are multitudes who never can have means 
nor opportunities of fo near an accefs, as to partake of th« 
benefit of fuch examples. And, to thefe, tragedy, which 
diftinguiihes itfelf from the vulgar poetry by the dignity 
of its characters, may be of ule and information. For 
they who are at that diltance from original greatnefs, as 
to be deprived of the happinefs of contemplating the per- 
fections, and real excellencies of your Royal Highnefs's 
perfon in your court, may yet behold fome {mall iketch- 
h z ct 

[ 4 ] 

€3 and imagings of the virtues of your mind, abltrac*ted, 
and represented on the theatre. 

Thus poets are inftrueted, and inftrucl: ; not alone by 
precepts which perfuade, but alfo by examples which 
illuftrate. Thus is delight interwoven with inftruction ; 
when not only virtue is prescribed, but alfo reprefented. 

But if we are delighted with the livelinefs of a feigned 
reprefentation of great and good perfons and their ac- 
tions, how mult we be charmed with beholding the per- 
fons themfelves ? If one or two excelling qualities, bare- 
ly touched in the fingle action and fmall compafs of a 
play, can warm an audience with a concern and regard 
even for the feeming fuccefs and profperity of the aclor, 
with what zeal mufr the hearts of all be filled for the 
continued and encreafmg happinefs of thofe who are the 
true and living inltanccs of elevated and perfifting virtue ? 
Even the vicious themfelves muft have a fecret vene- 
ration for thofe peculiar graces and endowments which 
are daily fo eminently conspicuous in your Royal High- 
nefs; and, though repining, feel a pleafure, which, in 
fpite of envy, they per-force approve. ' 

If, in this piece, humbly offered to your Royal High- 
r.efs, there mail appear the refemblance of any of thofe 
many excellencies which you fo promifcuoufly polTefs, 
to be drawn fo as to merit your lead approbation, it has 
the end and accomplishment of its defign. And however 
imperfect it may be in the whole, through the inexperi- 
ence or incapacity of the author ; yet if there is fo much 
as to convince your Royal Highnefs, that a play may be, 
with induftry, fo difpofed (in fpite of the licentious 
practice of the modern theatre) as to become fometimes 
an innocent, and not unprofitable entertainment ; it will 
abundantly gratify the ambition, and recompenfe the 
endeavours of 

Your Royal Highnefs's 

Moft obedient, and 

Moft humbly devoted fervant, 



[ s l 


CJ~ HE time has been, when plays were not fo plenty r 

And a lefs number, new, would well content ye, 
New plays did then like almanacks appear , 
And one was thought fufjzcicnt for a year : 
Though they are more like almanacks of late ; 
For in oneyear, I think, they re out of date. 
Ncr were they, without reafon, joind together y. 
Forjufl as one prognoflicates the weather, 
H.w plentiful the crop, or fcarce the grain , 
What peals of thunder, or what flowers of rain j 
So t'other can forctel, by certain rules, 
What crops of coxcombs, or what floods of fools*- 
In fuch like prophecies were poets fkiWd, 
WJjich now they find in their own tribe fulfill' d* 
The dearth o f wit they did fo long prefage, 
Is fallen on us, and almofl flarves the ftage. 
Were you not grieved, as often as you faw 
Poor aftors threfh fuch empty Jheafs of fir aw ? 
Toiling and lab' ring at their lungs 9 expencc, 
To fart ajefl, or force a little fenfe ? 
Hard fate for us, fill harder in th' event ; 
Our authors fn, but we alone repent. 
Still they proceed, and, at our charge, write wor/e;. 
*T were fome amends^ if they cloud reimburfe ; 
But there's the devil, tho' their caufe is lofl, 
There' j no recovering damages or aft, 
Good wits, forgive this liberty we take, 
Since cvflom gives the lofers leave to /peak. 
But if, provok'd, your dreadful wrath remain;, 
Take your revenge upon the coining fcenes : 
For that damn y d poet's fpar'd, who damns a brother, 
As one thief f capes that executes another. 
Thus far alone does to the wits relate ; 
But from the reft we hope abetter fate. 
To pleafe, and move, has been our poet's the7ne 7 
Art may direflj but nature is his aim j 

A. 3 ' 4h& 

t 6 ] 

4" d " a,are a 'A% in ■vain be ioafis bis art 
Tor «,dy nalvre canafeatbebeaft. ' 

xri prejudice, liscaufe- 

*?3fc* 4 b J «Ji decrees, tojland or fill. 



Manuel, the king of Granad 

Co»/&fc, his favourite, £? A ,c , kln - 

fon to Mr. Packer. 

captain of the guards, S?"?- 
an officer, creature to Mr fa 

a noble prifoner, y ' ™ 'j frighten. 

"f>aprifoner,hisfnend, Mr h""^ 

&/<», an eunuch, 1 ' ?! r. Huril. 

Mr. Fawcett. 


AJmeria, the princefs of Granada, Mrs Y- t „ 
^ara, a captive queen, E<7 * ates - 

Leonora, chiefattendant on the princefs, Mrs. / 7Xn. 

Women, eunuchs, and mutes attending Zara, guards, ice. 




Mourning Bride. 


Taken from the 




L O N D O N .« 

fe 4 ^ H P*™«tiTeM, aad fold by RACHAEL 

'5^w ,f LL - 4 . FV'f* Sh F-*-*». Fleet-Strew* and all 
tfookfellers m England, Scotland, and Irslauid. . 


Manurl, — — Mr. Clarke. 

Gonfalez, — — Mr. Hull. 

Garcia, — « — Mr. Whitfield. 

Perez, — — Mr. Tbompfon. 

Alonzo, — — Mr. Vearon. 

Ofmyn, — <— • Mr. Lezvis. 

Heli, — — Mr. Davies. 

Selim, — — Mr. Booth. 

W O M E N. 

Almerla, «— — Mifs Brunt.n. 

Zara, — — Mifs Tounge. 

Leonora, — — Mifs Piatt. 

Wometty Eunuchs^ and Mutes, atteniing X^r^tGuardh Sec 

t 7 ] 



A C T T. 

SCENE, a room ofjtate. 

The curtain rijtng Jloivty to foft mujtc, difcovers Almeria 
in mournings Leonora waiting in mourning. 

After the ?nujic, Almeria rifes from her chair, and comes 


MUSIC has charms to footh a favage breafr, 
To foften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. 
I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd, 
And as with living fouls, have been inform 'd, 
By magic numbers and perfuafive found. 
What then am I ? Am I more fenfelefs grown 
Than trees or flint ? Oh, force of cohltant woe ! 
*Tis not in harmony to calm my griefs. 
Anfelmo lleeps, and is at peace ; laft night 
The lilent tomb receiv'd the good old king ; 
He and his forrows now are fafely lodg'd 
Within its cold, but hofpitable bofom. 
Why am not I at peace ? 

Leon, Dear Madam, ceafe, 
Or moderate your grief; there is no caufe—— 

Aim, No caufe ! Peace, peace ; there is eternal caufe. 
And mifery eternal will fucceed. 
Thou canft not tell — thou halt indeed no caufe. 

Leon, Believe me, Madam, I lament Anfelmo, 
And always did companionate his fortune ; 
Have often wept, to fee how cruelly 
Your father kept in chains his fellow-king : 

4 1 And 


And oft, at night, when all have been retir'd, 
Have ftol'n from bed, and to his prifon crept ; 
Where, while his gaoler flept, I thro' the grate 
Have foftly whifper'd, and enquir'd his health ; 
Sent in my lighs and pray r rs for his deliv'rance ; 
For lighs and pray'rs were all that I could offer. 

Abn, Indeed thou haft a foft and gentle nature. 
That thus could melt to fee a Granger's wrongs. 
Oh, Leonora, hadft thou known Anfelmo, 
How wou'd thy heart have bled to fee hisfufFerings V 
Thou hadft no caufe, but general compaflion. 

Leon. Love of my royal miftrefs gave me caufe ; 
My love of you begot my grief for him ; 
For I had heard, that when the chance of war 
Had blefs'd Anfelmo's arms with victory, 
And the rich fpoil of all the field, and you, 
The glory of the whole, were made the prey 
Of his fuccefs ; * that then, in fpite of hate, 

* Revenge, and that hereditary feud 

* Between Valentia's and Granada's kings,' 
He did endear himfelf to your affection, 
By all the worthy and indulgent ways 

His moil indufcrious goodnefs cou'd invent ; 
Propofing, by a match between Alphonfo 
His ion, the brave Valentian prince, and you, 
To end the long diifention, and unite 
The jarring crowns. 

« Ainu Alphonfo ! O, Alphonfo ! 
' Thou too art quiet — long haft been at peace — 
4 Both, both father and fon are now no more. 

* Then why am I ? Oh, when (hall I have reft ? 
4 Why do I live to fay you are no more ? 

1 Why are all thefe things thus ? — Is it of force ? 

* Is there neceffity I muft be miferable ? 

* Is it of moment to the peace of Heav'n 

4 That I fhou'd be afflicted thus ? If not, 

* Why is it thus contriv'd ? Why are things laid 

4 By fome unfeen hand, fo, as of fure coniequence, 
s They muft to me bring curfes, grief of heart, 

* The laft diftrefs of life, and fure defpair ? 

* Leon. Alas ! you fearch too far, and think too deeply.' 
Aim, Why was I carry 'd to Anfelmo's court ? 


Or there, why was I us'd fo tenderly ? 

Why not ill treated, like an enemy ? 

For fo my father wou'd have us'd his child. 

Oh, Alphonfo, Alphonfo ! 

Devouring feas have wafh'd thee from my fight. 

No time mall raze thee from my memory ; 

No, I will live to be thy monument: 

The cruel ocean is no more thy tomb : 

But in my heart thou art interr'd ; there, there, 

Thy dear refemblance is for ever fix'd ; 

My love, my lord, my hufband ftill, tho' left. 

Leon, Hulband ! Oh, Heav'ns ! 

Aim. Alas ! what have I faid ? 
My grief has hurry'd me beyond all thought. 
1 wou'd have kept that fecret ; though I know 
Thy love, and faith to me deferve all confidence. 
4 But 'tis the wretch's comfort It ill to have 

* Some fmall referve of near and inward woe, 
' Some unfufpe&ed hoard of darling grief, 

* Which they unfeen may wail, and weep, and mourn, 
' And, glutton-like, alone devour. 

' Leon, Indeed, 

* I knew not this. 

' Aim, Oh, no, thou know'ft not half, 

* Know'ft nothing of my forrows — if thou didft-— 

* If I ftiou'd tell thee, would'ft thou pity me ? 

* Tell me ; I know thou would'ft ; thou art companionate. 
Leon, Witnefs thefe tears 

* Aim, I thank thee^ Leonora — — 
' Indeed I do, for pitying thy fad miftrefs : 
4 For 'tis, alas ! the poor prerogative 

* Of greatnefs to be wretched^ and unpitied 

* But I did promife I wou'd tell thee — What ? 
6 Mymiferies? Thou doft already know 'em. 

* And when I told thee thou didft nothing know, 

* It was becaufe thou didft not know Alphonfo : 

* For to have known my lofs, thou muft have known 

* His worth, his truth, and tendernefs of love.' 
Lean, The memory of that brave prince (lands fair 

In all report— r 
And I have heard imperfectly his lofs ; 



But fearful to renew your troubles pafr, 
I never did prefume to alk the ftory. 

Aim, If for my fwelling heart I can, I'll tell thee, 
I was a welcome captive in Valentia, 
E'en on the day when Manuel, my father, 
Led on his conqu'ring troops high as the gates 
Of king Anfelmo's palace ; which in rage, 
And heat of war, and dire revenge, he fir'iL 
The good king flying to avoid the flames, 
Started amidfl his foes, and made captivity 
His fatal refuge — Wou'd that I had fall'n 
Amidfl thofe flames — but 'twas not fo decreed, 
Alphonfo, who forefaw my father's cruelty, 
Had borne the queen and me on board a flrip 
Ready to fail ; and when this news was brought 
We put to fea ; but being betray'd by fome 
Who knew our flight, we clofely were purfu'd, 
And almoit taken ; when a fudden ftorm 
Drove us, and thofe that follow'd, onthecoaft 
Of Afric : There our veflel ftruck the fhore 
And bulging 'gainit a rock, was dafh'd in pieces ,* 
But Heav'n fpar'd me for yet much more affliction ! 
Conducting them who follow'd us, to fhun 
The fhore, and fave me floating on the waves, 
While the good queen and my Alphonfo pei ilh'd. 

Leon, Alas ! were you then wedded to Alphonfo ? 

Aim, That day, that fatal day, our hands were join'd. 
For when my lord beheld the (hip purfuing, 
And faw her rate fo far exceeding ours, 
He came to me, and begg'd me by my love, 
I wou'd confent the prieft fliou'd make us one ; 
That whether death or victory enfu'd 
I might be his, beyond the power of fate : 
The queen too did affiit his i'uit — I granted ; 
And in one day was wedded and a widow, 

Leon, Indeed 'twas mournful 

Aim, 'Twas — as I have told thee— 
For winch I mourn, and will forever mourn ; 
Nor will I change thefe black and difmal robes, 
Or ever dry theie fwoln and watery eyes ; 


1 1 

Or ever tafle content, or peace of heart, 

While I have life, and thought of my Alphonfo. 

* Leon, Look down, good Heav'n, with pity on her 

i * And grant that time may bring her fome relief. 

' Aim. Oh, no ! time gives increafe to my afflictions. 

* The circling hours, that gather all the woes 
4 Which are difFus'd thro' the revolving year, 

* Come heavy laden with th' oppreffing weight 
' To me ; with me, fucceffively, they leave 

* The fighs, the tears, the groans, the reftlefs cares, 

* And all the damps of grief, that did retard their flight : 

* They ftvake their downy wings, and fcatter all 

* The dire collected dews on my poor head : 

* Then fly with joy and fwiftnefs from me.' 

[Shouts at a diftaricc, 

Leon* Hark ! 
The diflant fhouts proclaim your father's triumph. 

ceafe, for HeavVs fake, aflliage a little 
This torrent of your grief, for, much I fear, 
'Twill urge his wrath, to fee you drown'd in tears, 
When joy appears in ev'ry other face. 

Aim. And joy he brings to ev'ry other heart, 
But double, double weight of woe to mine : 
For with him Garcia comes — Garcia, to whom 

1 mufl be facrific'd, and all the vows 

I gave my dear Alphonfo bafely broken. 

No, it {hall never be ; for I will die 

Firlt, die ten thoufand deaths — Look down, look down, 

Alphonfo, hear the facred vow I make ; [Kneels, 

* One moment, ceafe to gaze on perfect blifs, 

* And bend thy glorious eyes to earth and me j' 
And thou, Anfelmo, if yet thou art arriv'd 
Thro' all impediments of purging fire, 

To that bright Heav'n, where my Alphonfo reigns, 

Behold thou alfo, and attend my vow. 

If ever I doyield, or give confent, 

By any action, word, or thought, to wed 

Another lord; may then juft Heav'n ihow'r down 

Unheard of curfes on me, greater far 

.(If iuch there be in angry Heaven's vengeance) 



Than any I have yet endur'd — And now 
My heart has fome relief ; having fo well 
Difcharg'd this debt, incumbent on my love. 
Yet, one thing more I wou'd engage from thee. 
Leon, My heart, my life, and will, are only yours. 
Aim. I thank thee. 'Tis but this : anon, when all 
Are wrapp'd and bufied in the general joy, 
Thou wilt withdraw, and privately with me 
Steal forth, to vifit good Anfelmo's tomb. 
Leon. Alas ! I fear fome fatal refolution. 
Aim. No, on my life, my faith, I mean no ill, 
Nor violence — I feel myfelf more light, 
And more at large, fince I have made this vow. 
Perhaps I would repeat it there more folemnly. 
'Tis that, or fome fuch melancholy thought, 
Upon my word, no more. 
Leon, 1 will attend you. 

Enter Alonzo. 
Alon. The lord Gonfalez comes to tell your highnefs 
The king is juft arriv'd. 

Aim. Conduct him in. [ExitMon* 
That's his pretence ; his errand is, I know, 
To fill my ears with Garcia's valiant deeds ; 
And gild and magnify his fon's exploits. 
But I am arm'd with ice around my heart, 
Not to be warm'd with words, or idle eloquence. 
Enter Gonfalez. 
Gon. Be ev'ry day of your long life like this. 
The fun, bright conqueft, and your brighter eyes, 
Have all confpir'd to blaze promifcuous light, 
And blefs this day with moft unequal luftre. 
Your royal father, my victorious lord, 
Loaden with fpoils, and ever-living laurel, 
Is ent'ringnow, in martial pomp, the palace. 
Five hundred mules precede hisfolemn march, 
Which groan beneath the weight of Moorifh wealth. 
Chariots of war, adorn'd with glitt'ring gems, 
Succeed ; and next, a hundred neighing deeds, 
White as the fleecy rain on Alpine hills, 
That bound and foam, and champ the golden bit, 
As they difdain'dthe victory they grace. 
Prifoners of war in fliining fetters follow : 



And captains of the nobieft blood of Afric 
Sweat by his chariot wheels, * and lick and grind, 
' With gnawing teeth, the duft his triumphs raife.' 
The fwarming populace fpread every wall, 
4 And cling, as if with claws rhey did enforce 

* Their hold ; thro' clifted llones llretching and flaring, 

* As if they were all eyes, and every limb 

* Would feed its faculty of admiration :' 
While you alone retire, and fhun this fight ; 
This fight, which is indeed not feen (tho' twice 
The multitude fnould gaze) in abfence of your eyes. 

Aim. My lord, mine eyes ungratefully behold 
The gilded trophies of exterior honours. 
Nor will my ears be charm'd with founding words. 
Or pompous phrafe, the pageantry of fouls. 
But that my father is return'd in fafety., 
I bend to Heav'n with thanks. 

Gon. Excellent princefs ! 
But 'tis a talk unfit for my weak age 
With dying words to offer at your praife, 
Garcia, my fon, your beauty's 1 owe 11: Have, 
Has better done ; in proving with his fword 
The force and influence of your matchlefs charms. 

Aim. I doubt not of the worth of Garciu's deeds, 
Which had been brave, though I had ne'er been born. 

Leon* Madam, the king. \_FlourifJj. 

' Aim, My women. I woifd meet him.' 

[Attendants to Almeria enter in mourning* 
Symphony of warlike mufic* Enter the King, attended by 

Garcia and federal officers* Files of pr'foncrs in chains*, 

and guards, who are ranged in order round the fta^e. 

Almeria meets the King, and kneels: afterwards GovJ'?.- 

lez kneels and kijjes the King 1 's band, while Garcia does 

the fame to the princefs. 

King. Almeria, rife — My bell Gonfalez, rife. 
What, tears ! my good old friend — 

■Gon. But tears of joy. 
Believe me, Sir, to fee you thus, has fill'd 
Mine eyes with more delight than they can hold. 

King. By Heav'n, thou lov'il me, and I'm pieas'd thou 

Tajte it for thanks, old man, that I rejoice 

B To 


To fee thee weep on this occafion— Some 
Here are, who feem to mourn at our fuccefe ! 
Why is't, Almeria, that you meet our eyes, 
Upon this folemn day, in thefe fad weeds ? 
In oppofitiorato my brightnefs, you 
And yours are all like daughters of affliction. 

Mm. Forgive me, Sir, if I in this offend. 
The year, which I have vow'd to pay to Heav'n, 
•In mourning and Uriel life, for my deliv'rance 
•From wreck and death, wants yet to beexpir'd. 

King. Your zeal to Heav'n is great, fo is your debt t 
"Yet fomething too is due to me, who gave 
That life, which Heav'n preferv'd. A day beftow'd 
In filial duty, had atton'd and given 
A difpenfation to your vow — No more. 
'Twas weak and wilful — and a woman's error. 
Yet, upon thought, it doubly wounds my fight, 
To fee that fable worn upon the day, 
Succeeding that, in which our deadlieft foe, 
Hated Anfelmo, was interr'd — By Heav'n, 
It looks as t^iou didft mourn for him : juft fo 
Thy fenfelefs vow appear'd to bear its date, 
Not from that hour wherein thou wert preferv'd, 
But that wherein the curs'd Alphonfo perim'd. 
Ha ! What ? thou doft not weep to think of that ! 

Gon. Have patience, royal Sir ; the princefs weeps 
To have offended you. If fate decreed, 
One pointed hour fhould be Alphonfo's lofs, 
And her deliverance, is {he to blame? 

King. I tell thee fhe 's to blame, not to have fealled 
When my flrft foe was laid in earth, fuch enmity, 
Such deteftation bears my blood to his ; 
My daughter fhould have revell'd at his death, 
She fhould have made thefe palace walls to fhake, 
And all this high and ample roof to ring 
With her rejoicings. What, to mourn and weep ! 
Then, then to weep, and pray, and grieve ! by Heav'n, 
There's not a Have, a {hackled {lave of mine, 
But mould have fmil'd that hour, through all his care, 
And (hook his chains in tranfport and rude harmony. 

Gon. What Ihe has done, was in excefs of goodnefs ; 

i *" Betray'd 


Betray'd by too much piety, to feem 

As if me had offended. -Sure, no more. 

King. To feem is to commit, at this conjuncture» 
I wo'not have a feeming forrovv feen 
To-day. — Retire ; divert yourfelf with fpeed 
Of that oftenfive black ; on me be all 
The violation of your vow ; for you 
It mall be your excufe, that I command it.. 

Gar. [Kneeling.] Your pardon, Sir, if I prefume fo far, 
As to remind you of your gracious promife. 

King. Rife, Garcia — I forgot. Yet ftay, Almeria. 

jOm. My boding heart ! — Whatis your pleafure, Sir ? 

King. Draw near, and give your hand, and, Garcia, 
yours r 

Receive this lord, as one whom I have found 
Worthy to be your hufband, and my fon. 

Gar. Thus let me kneel to take — O not to take- 
But to devote, and yield myfelf for ever 
The flave and creature of my royal miftrefs. 

Gon. O let me proftrate pay my worthlefs thanks— 
King, No more ; my promife long fmce pafs'd, thy 

And Garcia's well^try'd valour, all oblige me* 
This day we triumph ; but to-morrow's fun, 
Garcia, mall fhineto grace thy nuptials 

Aim, Oh ! [Faints. 

Gar. She faints ! help to fupporther. 

* Gonf. She recovers. 

King. 4 A fit of bridal fear.' Howis't, Almeria? 

Aim. Afudden chilnefs feizes on my fpirits. 
Your leave, .Sir, to retire. 

King. Garcia, conduct her. 

[Garcia leads Almeria to the door, and returns* 
This idle vow hangs on her woman's fears, 
4 I'll have a prieft mall preach her from her faith, 
* And make it fin, not to renounce that vow 
4 Which I'd have broken*' Now, what would Alonzo ? 
Enter Alonzo. 

Alon. Your beauteous captive, Zara, is arrir'd, 
And with a train as if (he ftill were wife 
To Albucacim, and the Moor had conquer 'd. 

King. It is our will fhe mould be fo attended. 

B 2 * Bear 


* Bear hence thefe prisoners.' Garcia, which is he, 
Of whofe mute valour you relate fuch wonders ? 

[Prifoners led off, 

Gar. Ofmyn, who led the Moorifh horfe ; but he, 
Great Sir, at her requeft, attends on Zara. 

King, He is your prifoner; as you pleafe difpofe him. 

Gar. I would oblige him, but he {huns my kindnefs ; 
And with a haughty mien, and {lern civility, 
Dumbly declines all offers. 1 f he fpeak, 
'Tis fcarce above a word ; as he were born 
Alone to do, and did difdain to talk ; 
At leait. to talk where he mulFnot command. 

King, Such fullennefs, and in a man fo brave, 
Muft have fome other caufe than his captivity. 
Bid Zara, then, requeit he might attend her f" 

Gar. My lord, me did. 

King, That, join'd with his behaviour, 
Begets a doubt. I'd have 'em watch'd ; perhaps 
Her chains hang heavier cn him than his own. 
Enter Alonzo, Zara and Ofmyn bound, conduced by Perez 

and a guard, and attended by Selim and fever al mutes 

and eunuchs in a train. 

King, What welcome', and what honours, beauteous 

A king and conqueror can give, are yours. 

A conqueror indeed, where ycu are won ; 

Who with fuch lultre ftrike admiring eyes, 

That had our pomp been with your pretence grae'd, 

Th* expecting crowd had been deceiv'd ; andfeen 

The monarch enter not triumphant, but 

In pleating triumph led ; your beauty's Have. 

Zar, If I on any terms could corxlefcend 
To like captivity, or think thole honours, 
Which conquerors in courtefy beftow, 
Of equal value with unborrow'd rule 
And native right to arbitrary ivvay, 
I might be pleas'd, when I behold this train 
W 7 ith ufual homage wait : but when I feel 
Thefe bonds, I look with loathing on myfelf, 
Andfcorn vile flavery, though doubly hid 
Beneath mock-praifes, and difTembled ftate. 

King. Thofe bonds ! 'Twas my command you fhoyld 
How durft you, Perez, diiobeyi' [be free. 

Pet ex* 


Perez. Great Sir, 
Your order was {he mould not wait your triumph *, 
But at fome diftance follow, thus attended. 

King. 'Tis falfc ; 'twas more ; I bid lhe mould be free ; 
If not in words, I bid it by my eyes. 

Her eyes did more than bid Free her and hers 

With fpeed — yet fray — my hands alone can make 
Fit rellitution here -Thus I releafe you, 
And by releafing you, enflave myfelf. 

Zar. Such favours, fo<conferr'd, tho* when unfought 5 
Deferve acknowledgment from noble minds. 
Such thanks, as one hating to be oblig'd——— 
Yet hating more ingratitude, can pay, 
I offer. 

King. Born to excel, and to command ! 
As by tranfeendent beauty to attract 
All eyes, lb by preheminence of foul 
To rule all hearts. 

Garcia, what's he, who with contracted brow, 

[Beholding Ofmyn as they unbind him. 
And fullen port, glooms downwards with his eyes j 
At once regardlefs of his chains, or liberty ? 

Gar. That, Sir, is he of whom I fpoke ; that's Ofmyn, 

King. He anfwers well the character you gave him. 
Whence comes it, valiant Ofmyn, that a man 
So great in arms, as thou art faid to be. 
So hardly can endure captivity, 
•The common chance of war ? 

OJm. Becaufe captivity 
Has robb'd me of a dear and ju It revenge. 

King. I underfland not that. 

Ofm. I would not have you. . 

Zar. That gallant Moor in battle loft a friend, 
Whom more than life he lov'd ; and the regret, 
Of not revenging on his foes that lofs, 
Has caus'd this melancholy and defpair. 

King. She does excufehim ; 'tis as I fufpecled. 


Gon. That friend may be herfelf; feem not to heed 
His arrogant reply: me looks concern'd. 

King. I'll have enquiry made ; perhaps his friend 
Yet lives, and is a prifoner. His name r" 

Zar, Heli. 

B 3 King. 


King, Garcia, that fearch (hall be your care : 
It fiiall be mine to pay devotion here ; 
At this fair fhrine to lay my laurels down, 
And raife love's altar on the fpoils of war. 
Conqueft and triumph, now, are mine no more ; 
Nor will I viclory in camps adore : 

* For, ling'ring there, in long fufpence fhe ftandi, 

* Shifting the prize in unrefolving hands ; 

* Unus'd to wait, I broke through her delay, 

4 Fix'd her by force, and fnatch'd the doubtful day. 

* Now late I find that war is but her iport j 

* In love the goddefs keeps her awful court •* 
Fickle in fields, unfteadily flie flies, 

But rules with fettled fway in Zara's eyes. [Exit. 

The End of the First Act. 

SCENE, representing the ijle of a temple. 
* Garcia, Heli, Perez. 
4 Garcia. 

* ^T^HIS way., we're told, Ofmyn was feen to walk ; 

* JL Choofing this lonely manfion of the dead, 

* To mourn, brave Heli, thy miitaken fate. 

4 Heli. Let heav'n with thunder to the centre ifcrike me*,, 
4 If to arife in very deed from death, 
4 And to revilit with my long-clos'd eyes 

* This living light, cou'd to my foul or fenfe 
4 Afford a thought, -or (hew a glimpfe of joy, 

* In leail proportion to the vaft delight 

4 I feel, to hear of Ofmyn's name ; to hear 

* That Ofmyn lives, arid I again fhall fee him. 

* Car* I've heard, with admiration, of your friend* 

4 Per. Yonder, my lord, behold the noble Moor. 
4 Ucl. Where? Where? 

4 Gar. 1 law him not, nor any like him 

4 Per. I law him when I fpoke, thwarting my view, 

* And itriding with diilcmper'd hafte ; his eyes 

* Seem'd flame, and flauYd upon me with a glance ; 

4 Then 


Then forward {hot their fires which he purfu'd, 
As to forae object frightful, yet net fear d. 
' Gar. ■ Let's hafle to follow him, and know the caufe, 
' Hel. My lord, let me intreat you to forbear; 
Leave -me alone, to find and cure the caufe. 
I know his melancholy, and fuch ftarts 
Are ufual to his temper. It might raife him 
To a£t fome violence upon himfelf, 
So to be caught in an unguarded hour, 
And when his foul gives all her paffions way, 
Secure and looie in triendly folitude. 
I know his noble heart would burn: with mame, , 
To be furpriz'd by ilrangers in its frailty. 
* Gar. Go, generous Heli, and relieve your friend* 
Far be it from me, ofiicioufly to pry 
Or prefs upon the privacies of others. 


Perez, the king ex pedis from our return 
To have his jealouly confirm'd, or clear'd, 
Of that appearing love which Zara bears 
To Ofmyn ; but fome other opportunity 
Mull make that plain. 

4 Per. To me 'twas long fince plain, 
And.ev'ry look from him and her confirms it. 

1 Gar. If fo, unhappinefs attends their love, 

* And 1 could pity 'em. I hear fome coming. 

* The friends, perhaps, are met ; let us avoid 'em. 


Enter Aim en a and Leonora. 

Aim. It was a fancy'd noife, for all is hufh'd. 

■Leon. It bore the accent of a human voice. 

Aim. It was thy fear, or elfe fome tranfient wind 
Whittling through hollows of this vaulted iile. 
We'll lilten 

Leon. Hark ! 

Aim. No, all is hufli'd, and ftill as death — 'tis dread 
How reverend is the face of this tall pile, [ful 
Whole antient pillars rear their marble heads, 
To bear aloft its arch'd and pond'rous roof, 
By its own weight made ftedrait and immoveable. 
Looking tranquility. It ftrikes an awe 
And terror on my aking fight ; the tomb* 


And monumental caves of death look cold, 
iAnd moot a chilnefsto my trembling heart. 
Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice; 
Nay, quickly fpeak to me, and let me hear 
Thy voice — my own affrights me with its echoes. 

Leon. Let us return ; the horror of this place 
And filence will increafe your melancholy. 

Aim, It may my fears, but cannot add to that. 
No, I will on ; fhew me Anfelmo's tomb, 
Lead me o'er bones and fculls, and mould'ring earth i 
Of human bodies ; for I'll mix with. them, 
Or wind me in the fhroud of fome pale corfe 
Yet green in earth, rather than be the bride 
Of Garcia's more detefted bed : that thought 
Exerts my fpirit; and my prefent fears 
Are loft in dread of greater ill. Then fhew me> 
Lead me, for I am bolder grown : lead on 
Where I may kneel, and pay my vows again 
To him, to Heav'n, and my Alphonfo's foul. 

4 Leon, I go; but Heav'n can tell with what regret*' 

[Exeunt » 

Enter Heli. 
I wander through this maze of monument?, 
Yet cannot find him — Hark ! lure 'tis the voice 
Of one complaining — There it founds— I'll follow it. 


Tbe SCENE opening difecvers a place of tcmbs : one monu* 
ment fronting the view greater than the rejl. 

Enter Almeria and Leonora. . 

Leon. Behold the facred vault, within whofe womb 
The poor remains of good Anfelmo reft, 
Yet rrefh and unconfum'd by time or worms. 
What do I fee ? Oh, heav'n ! either my eves 
Are falfe, or ftill the marble door remains 
Uncios'd ; the iron grates, that lead to death 
Beneath, are ftill wide ftretch'd upon their hinge, 
And flaring on us with unfolded leaves. 

Aim, Sure 'tis the friendly yawn of death for me; 
And that dumb mouth, fignificant in (how, 
Invites me to the bed, where I alone 
Shall reft ; fhews me the grave, where nature, weary 



And long opprefs'd with woes and bending cares, 
May lay the burden down, and link in {lumbers 
Of peace eternal. 4 Death, grim death, will fold 

* Me in his leaden arms, and prefs me cloie 
' To his cold clayie breall :' my father then 
Will ceaie his tyranny ; and Garcia too 
Will fly my pale deformity with loathing. 

My foul, enlarg'd from its vile bonds, will mount, 
And range the ftarry orbs, and milky ways, 

* Of that refulgent world, where I mall fwim 
' In liquid light, and float on feas of blifs 
To my Alphonfo's foul. Oh, joy too great! 
Oh, extafy of thought ! Help me, Anielmo ; 
Help me, Alphonfo ; take me, reach thy hand ; 
To thee, to thee I call, to thee, Alphonfo: 
Oh, Alphonfo! 

Ofmyn afcending from the tomb, 
Ofm. Who calls that wretched thing that was Al- 
phonfo ? 

Aim. Angels, and all the hoft of Heav'n, fupport me ! 
Ofm. Whence is that voice, whofe fhrillnefs, from the 

And growing to his father's fhroud, roots up 
Alphonfo ? 

Aim. Mercy! Providence! Oh, fpeak, 
Speak to it quickly, quickly ; fpeak to me, 
Comfort me, help me, hold me, hide me, hide me, 
Leonora, in thy bofom, from the light, 
And from my eyes. 

Ofm. Amazement and illufion ! 
Rivet and nail me where I ftand, ye pow'rs, 

[ Coming forward. 
That motionlefs I may be fHll deceiv'd. 
Let me not ftir, nor breathe, left I dhTolve 
That tender, lovely form of painted air, 
So like Almeria. Ha ! it finks, it falls ; 
I'll catch it ere it goes, and grafp her fhade. 
'Tis life ! 'tis warm! 'tis me, 'tis flie herfelf! 
Nor dead, nor (hade, but breathing and alive ! 
It is Almeria, 'tis, it is my wife! 

Enter Heli. 

Leon. Alas ! me ftirs not yet, nor lifts her eyes j 


He too is fainting Help me, help me, ftranger, 

Whoe'er thou art, and lend thy hand to raife 
Thefe bodies. 

HeL Ha ! 'tis he ! and with Almeriai: 

Oh, miracle of happinefs! Oh, joy 
Unhop'd for ! does Almeria live ! 

Ofm. Where is me ? 
Let me behold and touch her, and be fure 
'Tis fhe ; * ffcew me her face, and let me feel 

4 Her lips with mine 'Tis me, I'm not deceiv'd ; 

4 I tafte her breath, I warm'd her and am warm'd.' 
Look up, Almeria, blefs me with thy eyes ; 
Look on thy love, thy lover, and thy hufband. 

dim. I've fworn I'll not wed Garcia : why d'ye force 
Is this a father ? [me.. 

Ofm. Look on thy Alphonfo. 
Thy father is not here, my love, nor Garcia : 
Nor am I what I feem, but thy Alphonfo. 
4 Wilt thou not know me V Haft thou then forgot mo? 
1 Haft thou thy eyes, yet canft not fee Alphonfo ?' 
Am I fo alter'd, or art thou fo chang'd, 
That feeing my difguife, thou feeft not me ? 

Jim. It is, it is Alphonfo ; 'tis his face, 
His voice, I know him now, I know him all. 
* Oh, take me to thy arms, and bear me hence, 
4 Back to the bottom of the boundlefs deep, 
4 To feas beneath, where thou fo long haft dwelt. 
Oh T how haft thou returned ? How haft thou charm'd. 
The wildnefs of the waves and rocks to this ? 
That thus relenting they havegiv'n thee back 
To earth, to light and life, to love and me. 

Ofm. Oh, I'll not aik, nor anfwer how, or why 
We both have backward trod the paths of fate, 
To meet again in life ; to know I have thee, 
Is knowing more than any circumftance, 
Or means, by which I have thee 
To fold thee thus, to prefs thy balmy lips, 
And gaze upon thy eyes, is fo much joy, 
I have not leifure to reflect, or know, 
Or trifle time in thinking. 

Aim. Stay a while 
Let. me look on thee yet a little more. 


* Ofm, What wouldft thou ? thou doft put me from 

4 Aim, Yes. 

4 O/w. And why? What doft thou mean? Why doft 
thou gaze fo ? 

4 ^//«. I know not ; 'tis to fee thy face, I think—* 
It is too much ! too much to bear and live ! 
To fee thee thus again is fuch profufion 

Of joy, of blifs 1 cannot bear 1 muft 

Be mad 1 cannot be tranfported thus. 

Ofm. Thou excellence, thou joy, thou heav'n of love! 

Aim. Where haft thou been ? and how art thou alive ? 

* How is all this ? All-pow'rful Heav'n, what are we ? 
4 Oh, my fti-ain'd heart let me again behold thee, 

* For I weep to fee thee Art thou not paler ? 

f Much, much ; how thou art chang'd! 

4 Ofm. Not in my love. 
- * Aim, No, no, thy griefs, I know, have done this to 

c Thou haft wept much, Alphonfo; and, I fear, 
4 Too much, too tenderly, lamented me. 

6 Ofm. Wrong not my love, to fay too tenderly, 
4 No more, my life ; talk not of tears or grief ; 
' Affliction is no more, now thou art found. 

* Why doft thou weep, and hold thee from my arms, 

* My arms which ake to fold thee faft, and grow 

4 To the? with twining ? Come, come to my heart. 

* Aim. I will, for I mould never look enough. 

4 They would have marry'd me ; but I had fivorn 
4 To Heav'n and thee, and fooner would havedy'd— 

4 Ofm. Perfection of all faithfulnefs and love ! 

4 Aim. Indeed I wou'd— Nay, I wou'd tell thee all, 
4 If I could fpeak ; how I have mourn'd and pray'd : 
4 For I have pray'd to thee, as to a faint ; 
4 And thou haft heard my pray'r ; for thou art come 
4 To my diftrefs, to my defpair, which Heav'n 
4 Could only, by reftoring thee, have cur'd. 

4 Ofm, Grant me but life, good Heav'n, but length of 
days, ; ^ f% 

* To pay fome part, fome little of this debt, 

* This countlefs fum of tendernefs and love, 

"* For which I Hand engag'd to this all excellence : 

4 Then 


« qn*r, bear a whirlwind to my fate 

' fe?*££Sn B h ' and cu , ( me lh °" « 

« t it i.Y tttl " be enough— I fhall be oM 
I toll have livM beyond all .eras the" * 
Ofyetunmeafur'dtime; when I have made 

« Jo'? X< 3 Ulfite ' thi ^<"t amazing gooanefs 
Somerecompence of love and nfafchleftt ruth. 

« If Heav'n^ m ° re th - an r . ecom pence to fee thy thee • 

. Fori? S rea ' er Joy it is no happinefs, ■ 
For ti. notto be borne-Whatmalllfay'? 
I have a thoufand things to know and aft ' 

iri t . P n eal r T1 i atth0Uarthe « beyond, M hope 

« And whh § f PuW 3t0nCe thou a " before ml 
And with fueh fuddennefs haft hit my fight 

< It hurrie"an r"^ m )'^ er y> 

W> fou1 ' and flu ns my fenfe.' 

o£°T*7 - ath f v* tomb thou did(l a ^ » 

X" i d,d i and 'hou, my love, didft call me • thou 

alone ^ "'^ th ° U there? ?A 

un^'i. 1 , H ' as ' and tying on my father's lead 
When broken echoes of a diftan t voice ' 


Jn murmurs round my head. I rofe and liftenM 

But fl,U ' bo»; eam'it ,ho« thither ? How thus > 
■ rla ! 

Ere fee?? ' is flaI « d bere 

OA. Where ? Ha ! what do I fee, Antomo I 
In, fortunate indeed my friend too, fife? ' 

AnTT Unhurt ' a Pns'nerasyourfelf, 

And as yourfelf made free ; hither I came 
Impat.ently to feek you, where Ynew ' 
W gnef would lead you to lament Anfelmo, 

« Ofm. 


1 Omf. There are no wonders, or elfe all is wonder. 
4 Hell. I law you on the ground, and rais'd you up, 

* When with aftonifhment I law Almeria. 

' Ofm. I faw her too, and therefore faw not thee. 

« Aim. Nor I ; nor could I, for my eyes were yours. 

Ofm. What means the bounty of all-gracious Heav'n, 
That perfevering ftill, with open hand, 
It fcatters good, as in a waire of mercy ! 
Where will this end ? But Heav'n is infinite 
In all, and can continue to beftow, 
When fcanty number fliall be fpent in telling. 

Leon. Or I'm deceiv'd, or 1 beheld theglimpfe 
Of two in mining habits crofs the ifle ; 
Who by their pointing, feem to mark this place. 

Aim. Sure I have dreamt, if we muft part fo foon. 

Ofm. I wifli at lead our parting were a dream, 
Or we could fleep 'till we again were met. 

Heli. Zara with Selim, Sir, I faw and know 'em : 
You muft be quick, for love will lend her wings. 

Aim. What love ? Who is file ? Why are you alarm 'd? 

Ojm. She's the reverfe of thee ; file's my unhappinefs, 
Harbour no thought that may difturb thy peace ; 
. * But gently take thyfelf away, leftflie 

* Should come, and fee the /training of my eyes 
' To follow thee.' 

Retire, my love, I'll think how we may meet 
To part no more ; my friend will tell thee all ; 
How I efcap'd, how I am here, and thus ; 
How I'm not call'd Alphonfo now, but Olmyn ; 
And he Heli. All, all he will unfold, 
Ere next we meet 

Aim. Sure we mall meet again———*. 

Ofm. We fliall ; we part not but to meet again. 
Gladnefs and warmth of ever-kindling love 
Dwell with thee, and revive thy heart in abfence. 

[Exeunt Aim. Leon. andHcYi, 
Yet I behold her — yet — and now no more. 
Turn your lights inward, eyes, and view my thoughts, 
So mail you ftill behold her—' 'twill not be. 

* Oh, impotence of fight ! Mechanic fenfe ! 

* Which to exterior objects ow'ft thy faculty, 
: * Not feeing of election, but neceffity. 

C * Thus 

' Thus do our eyes, as do all common mirrors, 
bucccffively refled fucceeain^ images • 

* Tuftf^ ^VTu ' bUt mul1 ' " a toad , 
t J ult as the hand of chance admimtters. 

g £ ot \° the *nmd, whofe undetermined view 
Revolves and to theprefent adds the part ; 
t ^"aying farther to futurity ; 

* But that in vain. I have Almeria here 
At once, as I before have feen her often— 

Enter Zpra andSdim. 
Zar. See where he ftands, folded and fix'd to earth, 
btlff nmg in thought, a rlatue amony ftatues. 
Why, cruel Ofmyn, dolt thou flv me thus * 

* Is it well done ? Is this then the return 

' For fame, for honour, and for empire loll ? 
' But what is lofs of honour, fame, and empire ? 

Is this the recompence leierv'd for lovei* 
\ S^E' d ° [ }. th ™ leav , e m Y eyes, and fly my arms, 

I o rind this place of horror andobicurity 
Am I more loathfome to thee than the grave 
That thou deft feek to lhield thee there, and'mun 
My love ? But to the grave I'll follow thee— 
He looks not, minds nor, hears not.; barb'rous maa ! 
Am I neglected thus ? Am Idefpis'd ? 
Not hear'd ! Ungrateful Ofmyn 1 
Ofm. Ha, 'tis Zara ! 

Zar. Yes, traitor ; Zara, loft, abandoned Zara-, 
isaregardlefsfuppliant, now, to Ofmyn. 
The flave, the wretch that me redeem'd from death, 
Dildams to hflen now, or look on Zara. 

Ofm. Far be the guilt of fuch reproaches from me j 
Loft in myfelr, and blinded by my thoughts, 
I faw you not till now. a 

Zar. Now then you fee me— 
But with fuch dumb and thanklefs eyes you look 
Better I was unfeen, than feen thus coldly. 

Ofm. What would you from a wretch who came to 

And only for his forrows chofe this folitude ? 
Look round ; joy is not4iere, nor chearfulnefs. 
You have purfu'd misfortue to its dwelling 
Yet look for gaiety and gladnefs there, 

Zar t 


3hr. Inhuman ! Why, why doft thou rack me thus? 
And, with perverfenefs, from the purpofe, aniwer ?. 
What is't to me, this houfe of mifery ?. 
What joy do I require ? If thou dolt mourn, 
I come to mourn with thee, to fhare thy griefs, 
And give thee, for 'em, in exchange, my love. 

Ofm. Oh, that's the greateft grief—I am fo poor,. 
I have not wherewithal to give again. 

Zar. Thou haft a heart, tho' 'tis a favage one ; 
Give it me as it is ; I afk no more 
For all I've done, and a-11 I have endur'd : 
For faving thee, when I beheld thee firft, 
Driv'n by tb^ ' V»e upon my country's coaft, 
Pale and expiring, drench'd in briny waves, • 
Thou and thy friend, till my companion found thee J 
Companion ! fcarce will't own that name, fo foon, 
So quickly, was it love ; for thou wert godlike 
E*en then. Kneeling on earth, I loos'd my hair, 
And with it dry 'd thy u at'ry cheeks, then chaf'd 
Thy temples, till reviving blood arofe, 
And, like the morn, vermilion'd o'er thy face. 
Oh, Heav'n ! how did my heart rejoice and ake, 
When I beheld the duy-break of thy eyes, 
And felt the balm of thy refpiring lips ! 

' Ofm, Oh, call not to my mind what you have done ; 

* It fets a debt of that account before me, 

* Which mews me poor and bankrupt even in hopes. 
Zar. 4 The faithful Selim, and my women, know 

* The danger which I tempted to conceal you. 

* You know how I abus'd the cred'lous king ; 
4 What arts I us'd to make you pafs on him, 

4 When he receiv'd you as the prince of Fez ; 
4 And as my kinfman, honour'd and ad vane 'd you.* 
Oh i why do I relate what I have done ? 
What did I not ? Was't not for you this war 
Commenc'd ? Not knowing who you were, nor why 
You hated Manuel, I urg'd my hufband 
To this invafion ; where he late was loft, 
Where all is loft, and I am made a Have. 

C 2 Ofm. 


* Ofm. Tou pierce my foul — 2 own it all — But while 
*The power is wanting to repay fucb benefits^ 
9 Tis treble anguifJj to a generous heart. 

Zara. Repay me uith thy heart — What \ doji thou Jl art? 
Make no reply ! Is this thy gratitude ? 
Look on me now, from empire fall'n to flavery ; 
Think on my fufF'rings firft, then look on me ; 
Think on the caufe of all, then view thyfelf : 
Reflect on Ofmyn, and then look on Zara, 
The fall'n, the loft, and now the captive Zara, 

And now abandon'd Say, what then is Ofmyn? 

Ofm. A fatal wretch— A huge, ilupendous ruin, 
That tumbling on its prop, crufh'd allh°~<?ath, 
And bore contiguous palaces to earth . 

Zara. Yet thus, thus fall'n, thus levell'd with the vileft, 
If I have gain'd thy love, 'tis glorious ruin j 
Ruin ! 'tis ftill to reign, and to be more 
A queen ; for what are riches, empire, power, 
But larger means to gratify the will? 
The fteps on which we tread, to rife and reach 
Ourwifh; and that obtain'd, down with the fcaffolding 
Of fceptres, crowns, and thrones ; they've ferv'd their 
And are, like lumber, to be left and fcorn'd. [end, 

Ofm. Why was I made the inftrument to throw 
In bonds the frame of this exalted mind ? 

Zara. We may be free ; the conqueror is mine ; 
In chains unfeen I hold him by the heart, 
And can unwind and ftrain him as I pleafe. 
Give me thy love, I'll give thee liberty. 

Ofm. In vain you offer, and in vain require 
What neither can beftow. Set free yourfelf, 
And leave a Have the wretch that would be fo. 

Zara. Thou canft not mean fo poorly as thou talk'lt. 
Ofm. Alas ! you know me not. 
Zara, Not who thou art : 
But what this laft ingratitude declares, 
This groveling bafenefs — Thou fay'ft true, I know 
Thee not ; for what thou art yet wants a name : 

* The lines printed in Italics are not in the original, but are now 
given to the reader as delivered in the reprefentation at Drury-lane 



By fomething fb unworthy and lb vile, 

That to have lov'd thee makes me yet more loft, 

Than all the malice of my other fate. 

Traitor, monfter, cold perfidious flave ; 

A Have not daring to be free; nor dares 

To love above him ; for 'tis dangerous. 

* ^Tis that, I know ; for thou doft look, with eyes 
' Sparkling defue, and trembling to polfefs. 

* I know my charms have reach'd thy very foul, 

* And thrill'd thee through with darting fires ; but thou 

* Doll: fear fo much, thou dar'it not wiih.' The king ! 
There, there's the dreadful found, the king's thy rival ! : 

Set. Madam, the king is here, and entering now. ' 

Zara, As I could wifh ; by Heav'n I'll be reveng'd. . 
Enter the King, Perez, and attendants. 

King. Why does the faired of her kind withdraw . 
Her lhinjng from the day, to gild this fcene 
Of death and night? Ha ! what diforder's this ? 
Somewhat I heard of king and rival mention'd.. 
What's he. that dares be rival to the king, . 
Or lift his eyes to like where I adore ? [flave. . 

Zara. There, he, your prifoner, and that was my 

King. How ? better than my hopes ! Does flie accui£ 
him ? ■ [JJide. 

Zara. Am I become fo low by my captivity, 
And do your arms fo leflen what they conquer, 
That Zara muft be made thefport of Haves ? 
And ihall the wretch, whom yefter fun beheld . 
Waiting my nod, the creature of my pow'r, 
Prefume to-day to plead audacious love, 
And build bold hopes on my dejected fate ? 

King. Better for him to tempt the rage of Heav'ri, 
And wrench the bolt red-hiffing from the hand 
Of him that thunders, than but to think that infolencc. . 
4 *'Tis daring for a god.' Hence to the wheel 
With that Ixion, who afpires to hold 
Divinity embrac'd ; to whips andprifons 
Drag him with fpeed, and rid me of his face. 

[Guards feize gfmyn, and exeunt* 

Zara. Companion led me to bemoan his Hate, 
Whofe former fate had merited much more 5. . 

C 3 And 


And, through my hopes in you, I undertook 

He fhould be fet at large ; thence fprung his infolence, 

And what was charity, he conftru'd love. 

King* Enough; hispunifhment be what you pleafe. 
But let me lead you from this place of forrow, 
To one where young delights attend, * and joys, 

* Yet new, unborn, and blooming in the bud, 

* Which wait to be full-blown at your approach, 

* And fpread, like rofes, to the morning fun ;' 
Where ev'ry hour mall roll in circling joys, 
And love mail wing the tedious-waiting day. 
Life, without love, is load ; and time Hands flill:. 
What we refufe to him, to death we give ; 

And then, then only, when we love, we live. [Exeunti 

End of the Second Act. 


SCENE, a pr'.fon*. 

Osmyn, with a paper*, 

BUT now, and I was clcs*d within the tomb' 
That holds my father's allies ; and but now, 
Where he was pris'ner, I am too imprifon'd. 
Sure 'tis the hand of Heav'n that leads me thus, 
And for fome purpofe points out thefe remembrances. 
In a dark corner of my cell I found 
This paper ; what it is this light will fhew.. 

" If my Alphonfo" Ha \ ' L Rcadln^ 

«* If my Alphonfo live, reftore him, Heav'n -; 
*' Give me more weight, crufh my declining years 

With bolts, with chains, imprifonment and want ; . 
* 4 But blefs my fon, vifit not him for me. 

It is his hand ; this was his pray 'r yet more : 

i 1 Let ev'ry hair, which forrow by the roots [Reading* . 

%i Tears from my hoary and devoted head, 

** Be doubled in thy mercies to my fon : 

** N.4.t for xfcyfslf. but him,, hear me, <.ll*£raciotts— -- • 


'Tis wanting what mould follow— Heav'n fhou'd follow, ' 
But 'tis torn off — Why (hou'd that word alone 
Be torn from this petition ? 'Twas to Heav'n, 
But Heav'n was deaf, Heav'n heard him not ; but thus,. 
Thus as the name of Heav'n from this is torn, 
So did it tear the ears, of mercy from 
His voice, fhutting the gates of pray'r agamft him. 
If piety be thus debarr'd accefs 
On high, and of good men the verybefV 
Is fingled out to bleed, and bear the fcottrge, 
What is reward ? Or what is ptmifhment ? * 
But who mall dare to tax eternal j uitice ! 
Yet I'may think 1 may, I mult ; for thought- 
Precedes the will to think, and error lives 
Ere reafon can be born. 4 Keafon, the power 

* Toguefsat rightand wrong, the twinkling lamp 

* Of wand'ring life, that winks and wakes by turns, 

* Fooling the follower, betwixt made and fhining.' 
What noife ! Who's there ? My friend ? How cam'fl 

thou hither ? 

Enter Heli. 

Hell. The time's too precious to-'be fpent in telling. 
The captain, inftuene'd by Almeria's power, 
Gave order to the guards for my admittance. 

Ofm. How does Almeria ? But I know (he is 
As 1 am. Tell me, may 1 hope to fee her ? 

Heli, You may. Anon, at midnight, when the king; 
Is gone to reft, and Garcia is- retir'd, 

* (Who takes the privilege to vifit late, 
Prefumingon a bridegroom's right)' fhe'll come.. 
Ofm. She'll come; 'tis what I wifh, yet what 1 fear* 

She'll come ; but whither^ and to whom? Oh, Heav'n<t 

To a vile prifbn, and a captive wretch ; 

To one, whom, had (he neverknown, the had 

Been happy. Why, why was that heav'nly creature 

Abandon'd o'er to love what Heav'n forfakes ? 

Why does fhe follow, with un wearied fteps, 

One, who has tir'd misfortune with purfuing ? 

* One driven about the world, like blafted leaves 

* And chaff, the fport of.adverfe winds ; 'till late, 


! % Ien gA imprifonM in fome cleft of rock, 
On earth it reus, and rots to iilent dunV 

P^Ti ™ v 5; ho P es » a ^ hear the voice of better fate 
I ve learn/d there are diforders ripe for mutiny 

vS g M C tr T pS 'J vh ° thou « ht to fl "*e the plunder, 
If Manuel to his own ufe and avarice ' 

^onverrs. I fa news has reach'd Valentia's frontiers 

Where many of your fubjeds, long opprefs'd 

Vv ith tyranny, and grievous impositions, 

Are nfea in arms, and call for chiefs to head 

And lead them to regain their rights and liberty. 

T^ttEuS r ° UsM mC fr ° m m 7 lethargy 

1 he .p t which was deaf to my own wrongs, 1 
And the loud cries of my dead father's blold 
^ Deaf to revenge-nay, which refus'd to hear 
1 he piercing fighs and murmurs of my love 
Yet unenjoy d; what not Almeria could 
Revive or rai'e >. my people's voice has waken'd.' 
Hd^ Our pollute of afiairs, and fcanty time 
My lord require you mould eompofe yourfelf. 

Ofm Oh, my Antonio ! 1 am all on fire ; 
*uy loul is up m arms, ready to charge 
And bear am.dft the foe with conquering troops. , 
I hear em call to lead 'em on to 1, berty, 
To viclory ; their mouts and clamours rend 
My ears, and read, the Heav' qs . Where is the king * i 
Where „ Alphonfo ? Ha ! where > where indeed 
Oh I could tear and jburll the .firings of life, 
To brea,tnefc chains Off, off, ye ftains of royalty ; ; 
Ott,fl 3 very. Oh,curfeJ that I alone • 
Can beat and flutter in my cage, when I 
oiild loar and (loop at victory beneath. 
Hell. Abate this ardour, Sir, or we are loft. 
Z-ara, the cau fe of your reftraint, may be 
The means of liberty refWU That gain'd, 
Occafion will not fail to point out ways 

wYthn^f aP /; r Mean tiMie ' IVe thou g^t already . 
With ipeed and fafety to convey myfelf, 7 

Where not far off fome malcontents hold council 
Nightly, who hate this tyrant ; fome, who love 

3 AnfekaaV,.- 


Anfelmo's memory, and will, for certain, 
When they (hall know you live, afTiit your caufe. 

Ofm. My friend and counfellor, as thou think'ft fit, 
So do. I will, with patience, wait my fortune. 

Heli, When Zara comes, abate of your averfiort. 

Ofm. I hate her not, nor can difTemble love : 
But as I may I'll do. 4 I have a paper 

* Which I would (hew thee, friend, but that the fight 

* Would hold thee here, and clog thy expedition. 
4 Within I found it, by my father's hand 

* 'Twas writ ; a pray'r for me, wherein appears 
4 Paternal love prevailing o'er his forrows ; 

4 Such fanclity, fuch tendernefs, fo mix'd 

4 With grief, as would draw tears from inhumanity, 

* Heli, The care of Providence fure left it there, 
4 To arm your mind with hope. Such piety 
4 Was never heard in vain. Heav'n has in ftore 
4 For you thofe bleffings it witheld from him. 
4 In that aflurance live; which time, 1 hope, 
4 And our next meeting will confirm. 

Ofm. Farewel, 
My friend ; the good thou dofl deferve, attend thee. 

[Exit Heli. 

I've been to blame, and queflion'd with impiety 

The care of Heav'n. Not fo my father bore 

More anxious grief. This (hould have better taught me ; 

4 ThislefTon, in fome hour of in fpi ration 

4 By him fet down, when his pure thoughts were borne, 

4 Like fumes of facred incenfe o'er the clouds, 

4 And wafted thence, on angel's wings, thro' ways 

4 Of light, to the bright fource of all. For there 

4 He in the book of prefcience faw this day ; 

* And waking to the world and mortal fenfe, 
4 Left this example of his refignation,' 
This his lafl legacy to me : which, here, 
I'll treafure as more worth than diadems, 
Or all extended rule of regal pow'r. 

Enter Zara, <vei?d. 
Ofm. What brightnefs breaks upon me thus through 
And promifes a day to this dark dwelling ? [(hades, 
Is it my love ?— 


Zira. Oh, that thy heart had taught {Lift hi? her <i 
Ihy tongue that faying ! < ■ 

Ofm. Zara ! J am betray'd by my furprize, 
Zara. W hat, does my face difpleafe thee ? 
That, having feen it, thou doft turn thy eyes 
Away, as from deformity and horror ? 
If fo a this fable curtain fhall again 
Be drawn, and I will ftand before thee, feeing 
And unfeen. Is it my love ? Afk again 
That queftion ; {peak again in that foft voice J 
And look ngain with wiihes in thy eyes 
Oh, no ! thou canft not, for thou feeit me now, 
As file whole favage bread hath been the caufe 
Or thefe thy wrongs ; as (he whofe barb'rous rage 
, H ™ thee ™hh chains and galling irons. 

Well doft thou fcorn me, and upbraid my falfeneft • 
« Could one who lov'd, thus torture whom (he lov'd ? 

JNo, nc, it muft be hatred, dire revenge, 
' And detection, that could ufe thee thus. 
! „ thou think 5 then do but tell me fo ; 

* Tell me, and thou fhalt fee how I'll revenge 
' Thee on this falfe one, how I'll ftab and tear 

This heart of flint, 'till it (hall bleed j and thou 
bhalt weep tor mine, forgetting thy own miferies.' 
Ofm. You wrong me, beauteous Zara, to believe 
I bear my fortunes with fo low a mind, 

* As Hill to meditate revenge on all 

« Whom chance, or fate, working by fecret caufes, 
Has made, per-force, fubfervient to the end] 

* The heav'nly pow'rs allot me no, not you, 
But defhny and inaufpicious ftars 

Have caft me down to this low being. Or 

Granting you had, from you I have deferv'd it. 

c f ?r ?; C f llthou / or g iv emethen? wilt thou believe 

So kindly of my fault, to call it madnefs ? 

Oh, give that madnefs yet a milder name, 

And call it paffion ! then, be ftill more kind, 

And call that paffion love. 

Ofm. Give it a name, 
Or being as you pleafe, fuch I will think it. [nefs, 

Zara, Oh,thou doft wound me more with this thy good 



v ."'han e'er thou couldft with bittereft reproaches ; 
Thy anger could not pierce thus to my heart. 

P/Stf/Yet I could vviili' 

l Zara. Hafte me to know it ; what? 

Ofm. That at this time I had not been this thing. 

Zara. What thing ? 

Ofm. This fiave. 

Zara. Oh, Heav'n my fears interpret 
This thy lilence ; fomewhat or" high concern, 
l^ong falhioning within thy labouring mind, 
\nd now jult ripe for birth, my rage has ruin'd. 
rlave I done this ? Tell me, am 1 ib curs'd ? 

Ofm. Time may have Hill one fated hour to come, 
Which, wing'd with liberty, might overtake 
Dccaiion pall. 

Zara. Swift as occafion, I 
Myfelf will fly ;. and earlier than the morn, 
Wake thee to freedom. * Now 'tis late ; and yet 

• Some news few minutes paft, arriv'd, which ieem'd 
! To make the temper of the king — Who knows 

J What racking cares difeafe a monarch's bed ? 
Or love, that late at night Hill lights his lamp, 
And llrikes his rays thro' dull?: and folded lids, 

1 Forbidding reft, may ftrctch his eyes awake, 

1 And force their balls abroad at this dead hour. 

' I'll try. 

Ofm. I have not merited this grace ; 
Nk>r, mould my fecret purpofe take effect, 
Can 1 repay, as you require, fuch benefits. 

Zara. Thou canft not owe me more, nor have I more 
To give, than I've already loll. But now, 
So does the form of our engagements reft, 
Thou haft the wrong till I redeem thee hence ; 
That done, I leave thy juftice to return 
My love. Adieu. [Exit, 

Ofm. This woman has a foul 
Of godlike mould, intrepid and commanding, 
And challenges, in fpite of me, my beft 
Efteem ; 4 to this, file's fair, few more can boaft 

• Of perfonal charms, or with lefs vanity 

• Might hope to captivate the hearts of kings j' 


But fl-.e has paffions which outftrip the wind, 
And tear her virtues up, as tempefts root 
The lea. _ I fear, when fhe flaalJ know the truth, 
Some fwift and dire event of her blind rage 
Will make all fatal. But behold, (he comes 
For whom I fear, to ihield mo from my fears, 
The caufe and comfort of my boding heart. 

Enter Almeria. 
My life, my health, my liberty, my all ! 
How (hall 1 welcome thee to this fad place ? 
How fpeak to thee the words of joy and tranfport > 
How run into thy arms, witheld by fetters ; 
Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled 
And pinion'd like a thief or murderer ? 
Shall I not hurt or bruifethy tender body, 
And Main thy bofom with the ruit of thefe 
Kude irons ? Mull I meet thee thus, Almeria ? 

Aim. Thus, thus ; we parted, thus to meet again. 
Thou told'it me thou would'il think how we might meet 

To part no more Now we will part no more j 

For thefe thy chains, or death, fhall join us ever. 

4 Ofm. Hard means to ratify thy word ! — Oh, cruelty ! 

* That ever I fliould think beholding thee 

* A torture ! — Yet , fuch is the bleeding anguifh 

* Of my heart, to fee thy fufterings Oh, Heav'n ! 

* That I could almolt turn my eyes away, 

* Or wifh thee from my fight. 
- 4 Aim. Oh, fay not lb ! 

* Tho' 'tis becaufe thou Wit me. Do not fay, 

* On any terms, that thou doll wifh me from thee. 

* No, no, 'tis better thus, that we together 

* Feed on each other's heart, devour our woes 

* With mutual appetite ; and mingling in 

* One cup the common it ream of both our eyes, 

* Drink bitter draughts, with never-flaking thirl! ; 

* Thus better, than lor any caufe to part. 

* What doit thou think ? Look not fo tenderly 

* Upon me — fpeak, and take me in thy arms 

* Thou canlt not ; thy poor arms are bound, and Urive 

* In vain with thy remorfelefs chains, which gnaw 

* And eat into thy flelh, felt'ring thy limbs 

* With rankling ruft.' 



Ofm. Oh ! O 

Aim, Give me that figh. 
Why doft thou heave, and ftifle in thy griefs ? 
Thy heart will burft, thy eyes look red, and Hart; 
Give thy foul way, and tell me thy dark thought. 

Ofm, For this world's rule, I would not wound thy breaft 
With fuch a dagger as then ftuck my heart. 

Aim, Why? why ? To know it, cannot wound me more 
Than knowing thou haft felt it. Tell it me, 
— Thou giv'ft me pain with too much tendernefs. 

Ofm. And thy exceffive love diftra&s my fenfe. 
Oh, would!! thou be lefs killing, foft, or kind, 
Grief could not double thus his darts againft me. 

Aim. Thou doft me wrong, and grief too robs my 
If there he moot not every other fhaft ; [heart, 
Thy fecond felf ftiou'd feel each other wound, 
And woe mould be in equal portions dealt. 
I am thy wife — 

Ofm, Oh, thou haft fearch'd too deep : 
There, there I bleed ; there pull the cruel cords, 
That ftrain my cracking nerves ; engines and wheels, 
That piece-meal grind, are beds of down and balm 
To that foul-racking thought. 

Aim. Then I am curs'd 
Indeed, if that be fo ,• if I'm thy torment, 
Kill me, then, kill me, dam me with thy chains, 
Tread on me : ■ What, am I the bofom-fnake 
That fucks thy warm life-blood, and gnaws thy heart ; 
Oh that thy words had force to break thofe bonds, 
« Q S i y ^? V u ft 'T n§th totearth is heart in funder ; 

So fhou dft thou be at large from all oppreffion.' 
Am I, am I of all thy woes the worft ? 
Ofm._ My all of blifs, my everlafting Hf e , 

?£!! °} H f ° u1 ' and end of a11 m 7 wifhes, 
W hy doft thou thus unman me with thy words 

« wl m /a m u ed °7 '° TT min g lc with thy weepings ? 
•Why doft thou alk? Why doft thou talk thus piercingly P 
Thy forrovvs have difturb'd I thy peace of mj, 
And thou doft fpeak of miferies impoffible 

Aim. Didft not thou fay that racks and wheels were 

Aad beds of eafe, to thinking me thy wife ? 

D Ofm. 


Ofm. No, no ; nor Ihou'd the fubtleft pains that hell 
Or hell -born malice can invent, extort 
A wifh or thought from me to have thee other. 
But thou wilt know what harrows up my heart : 

Thou art my wife nay, thou art yet my bride 

The facred union of connubial love 

Yet unaccomplifti'd : ' his myllerious rites 

' Delay *d ; nor has our hymeneal torch 

* Yet lighted up hislafl moft grateful facrifice; 

* But dam'd with rain from eyes, and fwal'd with lighs, 

* Burns dim, and glimmers with expiring light.' 
Is this dark cell a temple for that god ? 

Or this vile earth an altar for fuch offerings ? 
This den for (laves, this dungeon damp'd with woes ; 
4 Is this our marriage bed ? are thefe our joys ?' 
Is this to call thee mine ? Oh, hold, my heart ! 
To call thee mine ? Yes ; thus even thus to call 
Thee mine, were comfort, joy, extremeltextafy. 
But, Oh, thou art not mine, not e'en in mifery ; 
And 'tis deny'd to me to be fo blefs'd, 
As ro be wretched with thee. 

Aim. No ; not that 
Th' extremeft malice of our fate can hinder : 
That flill is left us, and on that we'll feed, 
As on the leavings of calamity. 
There we will feaft and fmile on paft diftrefs, 
And hug, in fcorn of it, or mutual ruin, 

Ofm. Oh, thou doft talk, my love, as one refolv'd, 
Becaufe not knowing danger. But look forward ; 
Thiuk of to-morrow, when thou fhalt be torn 
From thefe weak, ftru ogling, unextended arms : 
Think how my heart will heave, and eyes willftrain, 
To grafp and reach what is deny'd my hands : 
4 Think how the blood will ftart, and tears willgufli, 
4 To follow thee, my feparating foul.' 
Think how I am, a hen thou (halt wed with Garcia ! 
Then will I fme u* thefe walls w : th blood, disfigure 
And dam my t.-ice, and rive my clotted hair, 
Break on this flinty floor my throbbing breaft, 
And grovel with gaih'd hands ro fcratch a grave, 
4 Stripping my nails to tear this pavement up,* 
And bury me alive. 


Aim. Heart-breaking horror ! 
Ofm. Then Garcia fhall lie panting on thy bofom, 
Luxurious, revelling amidfi thy charms ; 

* And thou per-force muft yield, and aid his tranfport.* 
Jlell ! Hell ! have I not caufe to rage and rave ? 
What are all racks, and wheels, and whips to this ? 

* Are they not foothing foftnefs, linking eafe, 

* And wafting air to this ?' Oh, my Almeria ! 
What do the damn'd endure, but to defpair, 
But knowing Heav'n, to know it loll for ever ? 

Aim. Oh, I am ftruck ; thy words are bolts of ice, 
Which fhot into my breaft, now melt and chill me. 
4 I chatter, lhake, and faint with thrilling fears. 

* No, hold me not Oh, let us not fupport, 

* But link each other, deeper yet, down, down, 

* Where levell'd low, no more we'll lift our eyes, 

* But prone, and dumb, rot the firm face of earth 

* With rivers of incelTant fcalding rain.' 

Enter Zara> Perez, Selim. 

Zar. Somewhat of weight to me requires his freedom ? 
Dare you difpute the king's command ? Behold 
The royal fignet. 

Per,, I obey ; yet beg 
Your majefty one moment to defer 
Your ent'ring, 'till theprincefs is return'd 
From vifiting the noble prifoner. 

Zar. Ha f 
What fay'fl thou ? 

Ofm. We are loft ! undone ! difcover'd ! 

* Retire, my life, withfpeed Alas, we're feen:' 

Speak of compaffion, let her hear you fpeak 

Of interceding for me with the king,* 

Saying fomething quickly to conceal our loves, 

If poffible ■ 

Aim. 1 cannot fpeak. 

Ofm. Let me 
Conduct you forth, as not perceiving her, 
But till file's gone ; then blefs me thus again. 

Zar. Trembling and weeping as he leads her forth I 
Confufion in his face, and griei in hers ! 
,r fis plain I've been abus'd— 4 Death and deftru&ion ! 

* How fhall I fearch into this myftery ? 

D 2 * The 


' The blueft blaft of peftilential air 
' Strike, damp, deaden her charms, and kill his eyes ;* 
Perdition catch 'em both, and ruin part 'em. 
Ofm. This charity to one unknown, and thus 

[Aloud to Almeria as Jhe goes out. 
Diftrefs'd, Heav'n will repay ; all thanks are poor. 

[Exit Almeria. 

Zar. Damn'd, damn'd diflembler ! Yet I will be calm, 
Choak in my rage, and know the utmoft depth 
Of this deceiver You feem much furpriz'd. 

Ofm. At your return fo foon and unexpected ! 

Zara. And fo unwim'd, unwanted too it feems. 
Confufion ! Yet I will contain myfelf. 
You're grown a favourite fince laft we parted; 
Perhaps I'm faucy and intruding——* 

Ofm. Madam! 

Zara. I did not know the princefs* favourite. 

Your pardon, Sir miftake me not ; you think 

I'm angry ; you're deceiv'd. I came to fet 
You free ; but lhall return much better pleas'd, 
To find you have an intereft fuperior. 

Ofm. You do not come to mock my miferies ? 

Zar. I do. 

Ofm, I could at this time fpare your mirth. 

Zar. I know thou couldft ; but I'm not often pleas'd. 
And will indulge it now. What miferies ? 
Who would not be thus happily confin'd, 
To be the care of weeping majefty ; 
To have contending queens, at dead of night, 
Forfake their down, to wake with wat'ry eyes, 
And watch like tapers o'er your hours of reft ? 
Oh, curfe ! I cannot hold 

Ofm. Come, 'tis too much. 

Zar. Villain ! 

Ofm. How, Madam ! 

Zar. Thou malt die. 

Ojm. I thank you. [live. 
Zar. Thou ly'ft, for now I know for whom thou'dft 
Ofm. Then you may know for whom I die. 
Zar. Hell! Hell! 
Yet I'll be calm Dark and unknown betrayer ! 



But now the dawn begins, and the flow hand 
Of Fate is ftretch'd to draw the veil, and leave 
Thee bare, the naked mark o£ public view. 

Ofm. You may be ftill deceiv'd, 'tis in my pow'r— — • 
Chain d as I am> to fvfrom all my wrongs 
And free myfelf at once, ft om mifery y 
Andyou of me. 

Zar. Ha ! fay 'ft thou— but I'll prevent it 

Who waits there ? As you will anfwer it, look this 
flave [To the guard. 

Attempt no means to make himfelf away. 
I've been deceiv'd. The public fafety now 
Requires he fhou'd be more confin'd, and none, 
No, npt the princefs, fuffer'd or to fee 
Or fpeak with him. I'll quit you to the king* 
Vile and ingrate ! too late thou (halt repent 
The bafeinjuftice thou haft done my love : 
Yes, thou malt know, ipiteof thy paft diftrefs, 
And all thofe ills which thou fo long haft mourn'd ; 
Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd, 
Nor hell a fury like a woman fcorn'd. Exeunt 
End of the Third Act. 


SCENE, a room of Jtate, 
Zara, Seliiru 

THOU haft already rack'd me with thy {ray ; 
Therefore require me not to afk thee twice: 
Reply at once to all. What is concluded ? 

Your accufation highly has incens'd 
The king, and were alone enough to urge 
The fate of Ofmyn; but to thar, frefli news 
Has fince arriv'd, of more revolted troops. 
Tis certain Heli too is fled, and with him 
(Which breeds amazement and diftra&ion) fome 
Who bore high offices of weight and truft, 
Both in the ftate and army. This confirms 
The king in full belief of all you told him 

D 3 Co, 


Concerning Ofmyn, and his correfpondence 
With them who firit began the mutiny. 
Wherefore a warrant for his death is fign'd ; 
And order given tor public execution. 

Zar. Ha! haftethee! fly, prevent his fate and mine 
Find out the king, tell him I have of weigh 
More than his crown t'impart ere Ofmyn die. 

Sel. It needs not, for the king will ftraight be here, 
And as to your revenge, not his own int'reit, 
Pretend to facrifice the life of Ofmyn. 

Zar. What (hall 1 fay ? Invent, contrive, advife 
Somewhat to blind the king, and fave his life, 
In whom I live. 4 Spite or my rage and pride, 

* I am a woman, and a lover itill. 

* Oh ! 'tis more grief but to luppofe his death, 

* Than ftill to meet the rigour of his fcorn. 

* From my defpair my anger had its fource ; 
4 When he is dead I muft defpair for ever. 

4 For ever ! that's defpair it was diftruft 

4 Before ; diftrufl will ever be in love,' 

1 And anger in diftruft ; both fhort-liv'd pains. 

4 But in defpair, and ever-during death, 

* No term, no bound, but infinite of woe. 

* Oh, torment, but to think ! what then to bear ? 

* Not to be borne' Devife the means tofhun it, 

Quick ; or, by Heav'n, this dagger drinks thy blood*. 

Sel. My life is yours, nor wifh I topreferve it, 
But to ferve you. I have already thought. 

Zar, Forgive my rage ; I know thy love and truth.. 
But fay, what's to be done ? or when, or how, 
Shall I prevent or flop th' approaching danger? 

Sel. You muft ftill feem molt refolute and fix 'd 
On Ofmyn's death ; too quick a change of mercy 
Might breed fufpicion of the caufe. Advife 
That execution may be done in private. 

Zar. On what pretence ? 

Sel. Your own requeft's enough. 
However, for a colour, tell him, you 
Have caufe to fear his guards may be corrupted, 
And fome of them bought off to Ofmyn's intereft, 
Who at the place of execution will 
Attempt to force his way for an efcape ; 

3 Th 


The ftate of things will countenance all fufpicions. 
Then offer to the king to have hkn ftrangled 
In fecret by your mutes : and get an order, 
That none but mutes may have admittance to him. 
I can no more, the king is here. Obtain 
This grant, and I'll acquaint you with the reft. 
Enter Klt.g) Gonialez, and Perez. 

King, Bear to the dung- on thofe rebellious (laves, 
4 Th' ignoble curs, thatyelp to fill the cry, 
' And fpend their mouths in marking tyranny.' 
But for their leaders, Sancho and Ramirez, 
Let 'em be led away to prefent death. 
Pe;ez, fee it peri rm'd. 

Gov/. Might i prefume, 
Their execution better were deferr'd, 
'Till Ofmyn die. Mean time we may learn more 
Of this confpiracy. 

King. Then be it fo. 
Stay, foldier ; they (hall fuffer with the Moor. 
Are none return'd of thofe thatfollow'd Heli ? 

Gonf. None, Sir. Some papers have been fince dif- 

In Roderigo's houfe, who fled with him, 
Which feem to intimate, as if Alphonfo 
Were ftill alive, and arming in Valentia : 
Which wears indeed this colour of a truth, 
They who are fled have that way bent their courfe^ 
Of the fame nature divers notes have been 
Difpei s'd t'amufe the people ; whereupon 
Soitie, ready of belief, have rais'd this rumour:. 
That being fav'd upon thecoaftof Afric, 
He there difclos'd himfelf to Albucacim,. 
And by a fecret compact made with him, 
Open'd and urg'd the way to this invafion; 
While he himfelf, returning to Valentia 
In private, undertook to raife this tumult. 

Zar. Ha ! hear'ir thou that ? Is Ofmyn then Alphonfo ? 
* Oh, heav'n ! a thoufand things occur ar once 
4 To my remembrance now, that make it plain.' 
Oh, certain death for him, as fure defpair 
For me, if it be known— If not,, what hope 
Have I ? Yet 'twere the loweil bafenefs now,, 



To yield him up — No, I will conceal him, 
And try the force of yet more obligations. 

Gonf. 'Tis not impoffible. Yet it may be 
That fome impoftor has ufurp'd his name. 
Your beauteous captive Zara can inform, 
If fuch an one, fo 'fcaping, was receiv'd, 
At any time in Albucacim's court. 

King. Pardon, fair excellence, this neglect : 
An unforefeen, unwelcome hour of bufinefs, 
Has thru ft between us and our while of love j 
But wearing now apace with ebbing fand, 
Will quickly wafte and give again the day. 

Zar. You're too fecure : the danger is more imminent 
Than your high courage fufters you to fee ; 
While Ofmyn lives, you are not fafe. 

King, His doom 
Is pafs'd, if you revoke it not, he dies. 

Zar, 'Tis well. By what I heard upon your entrance, 
I find I can unfold what yet concerns 
You more. One, who did call himfclf Alphonfo, 
Was caft upon my coaft, as is reported, 
And oft had private conference with the king ; 
To what effect I knew not then : but he, 
Alphonfo, fecretly departed, jutt 
About the time our arms embark'd for Spain. 
What I know more is, that a triple league 
Of ftrictect friendfriip was profe ft between 
Alphonfo, Heli, and the traitor Ofmyn. 

King, Public report is ratify'd in this.. 

Zar, And Ofmyn's death requir'd of ftrong necefTTty. 

King, Give order ftrait, that all the pris'ners die. 

Zar. Forbear a moment, fomewhat mere I have 
Worthy your private ear, and this your minifter. 

King, Let all, except Gonfalez, leave the room. 

[Exit Perez, csV. 

Zar. I am your captive, and you've us'd me nobly j 
And in return of that, tho' othervvife 
Your enemy, * I have difcover'd Ofmyn 
* His private practice and confpiracy 
4 Againft your ftate : and fully to difcharge 
4 MyfeUof what IVe undertaken, now* 
I think it fit to tell yoa, that your guards 


Are tainted ; fome among 'em have refolv'd 
To refcue Ofmyn at the place of death. 

King, Is treafon then fo near us as our guards ? 

Zar, Moft certain ; tho' my knowledge is not yet 
So ripe, to point at the particular men. 

King, What's to be done ? 

Zar, That too I will advife. 

A prefent once from the fultana queen, 
In the grand lignior's court. Thefe from their infanc 
Are practic'd in the trade of death ; and fliall 
(As their cuftom is) in private flrangle 

Gonf, My lord, the queen advifes well. 

King, What off'ring, or what recompence remain* 
In me, that can be worthy fo great fervices ? 
To caft beneath your feet the crown you've fav'd, 
Tho' on the head that wears it, were too little. 

Zar, Of that hereafter : but, mean time, 'tis fit 
You give ftri6t charge, that none may be admitted 
To fee the pris'ner, but fuch mutes as I 
Shall fend. 

King, Who waits there ? 

King, On your life, take heed 
That only Zara's mutes, or fuch who bring 
Her warrant, have admittance to the Moor. 

Zar, They, and no other, not the princefs' feif. 

Per, Your majefty (hall be obey'd. 

King, Retire. [Exit Perez. 

Gonf, That interdiction fo particular 
Pronounc'd with vehemence again ft the princefs, 
Shou'd have more meaning than appears barefae'd. 
This king is blinded by his love, and heeds 
It not. [Afide,'\ — Your majefty fure might have fpar'd 
The laft reftraint : you hardly can fufpeel: 
The princefs is con fed' rate with the Moor. 

Zar. I've heard her charity did once extend 
So far, to vint him at his requeft. 

Gonf. Ha ! 

King. How ! She vifit Ofmyn ! What, my daughter ? 
Sel, Madam, take heed ; or you have ruin'd all. 

I have 

fome mutes, 

Enter Perez. 

Zar i 


Zar. And after did folicit you on his 

King. Never. You have been mifinform'd. 

Z<?r. Indeed ! Then 'twas a whifper fpread by fome 
Who wiih'd it fo ; a common art in courts. 
I will retire and inftantly prepare 
Inltruction for my miniiters of death. 

{Exit Zara and Selima. 

Gonf. There's fomewhat yet of myftery in thi« ; 
Her words and actions are obfcure and double, 
Sometimes concur, and fometimes difagree : 
1 like it not. x {Afide, 

King. What dofl thou think, Gonlalez ? 
Are we not much indebted to this fair one ? 

Gonf, 1 am a little flow of credit, Sir, 
In the finceritv of woman's actions. 
Methinks this lady's hatred to the Moor 
Difc|uiets her too much ; which makes it feem 
As if fhe'd rather that fhe did not hate him. 
I wifh her mntes are meant to be employ'd 
As fhe pretends — I doubt it now— Your guards 
Corrupted ! How ? By whom ? Who told her fo ? 
I'th* evening Ofmyn was to die ; at midnight 
She begg'd the royal fignet to releafe him ; 
l'th' morning he muft die again ; ere noon 
Her mutes alone muft ftrangle him, or he'll 
Efcape. This put together fuits not well. 

King. Yet that there's truth in what file has difcover'd 
Is manifeft from every circumftance. 
This tumult, and the lords who fled with Heli, 

Are confirmation ; that Alphonfo lives, 

Agrees expreflly too with her report. 

Gonf. I grant it, Sir ; and doubt not, but in rage 
Of jealoufy, fhe has difcover'd what 
She now repents. It may be I'm deceiv'd. 
But why that needlefs caution of the princefs ? 
What if fhe had feen Ofmyn ? Tho' t'were ftrange ; 
But if flie had, what was't to her ? Unlefs 
She fear'd her ftronger charms might caufe the Moor's 
Affection to revolt. 

King. I thank thee, friend. 



There's reafon in thy doubt, and I am warn'd.j— 
But think'ft thou that my daughter faw this Moor ? 

Gonf. IfOfmyn be, as Zara has related, 
Alphonfo's friend, 'tis not impoffible 
But me might wifti, on his account, to fee him. 

King. Say'ft thou ? By Heav'n, thou hail rous'd a 

That like a fudden earthquake fhakes my frame. 
Confulion ! then my daughter's an accomplice, 
And plots in private with this hellifh Moor. t 

Gonf. That were too hard a thought but fee, (he 

'Twere not amifs to queftion her a little, [comes— 
And try, howe'er, it I've divin'd aright. 
If what I fear be true, fhe'll be concern 'd 
For Ofmyn's death, as he's Alphonfo's friend : 
Urge that, to try if fhe'll folic it for him. 

Enter Almeria and Leonora. 

King. Your coming has prevented me, Almeria; 
I had determined to have fent for you. 
Let your attendant be difmis'd ; I have [Leonora retires. 
To talk with you. Come near; why dolt thou fhake ? 
What mean thofefwoll'n and red-fleck'd eyes, that look 
As they had wept in blood, and worn the night 
In waking anguifh ? Why this on the day 
Which was defign'd to celebrate thy nuptials ; 
But that the beams of light are to be ftain'd 
With reeking gore, from traitors on the rack ? 
Wherefore I have deferr'd the manage -rites ; 
Nor fhall the guilty horrors of this day 
Prophane that jubilee. 

Aim. All days to me 
Henceforth are equal : this, the day of death, 
To-morrow, and the next, and each that follows 
Will undiitinguifh'd roll, and but prolong 
One hured line of more extended woe. 

King. Whence is thy grief? Give me to know the 
And look thou anfwer me with truth ; for know [caufe ; 
lam not unacquainted with thy falfliood. 
Why art thou mute ? B ife and degen'rate maid ! 

Gonf. Dear Madam, fpeak, or you'll incenfe the King. 

Aim. What is't to fpeak ? Or wherefore fliould I fpeak ? 
What mean thefe tears but grief unutterable ? 



King, They are the dumb confeflions of thy guilty 

mind ; 

They mean thy guilt: and fay thou wert confed'rate 

With damn'd confpirators to take my life. 

Oh, impious parri ide ! Now can ft thou fpeak ? 

Aim O earth, behold, I kneel upon thy bofom, 
And bend my flowing eyes to ftream upon 
Thy face, implering thee that thou wilt yield ; 
Open thy bowels of compaflion, take 
Into thy womb the laft and moft forlorn 
Of all thy race. Hear me, thou common parent 

I have no parent elfe — be thou a mother, 
And ftep between me and the curfe of him 
Who was — who was, but is no more a father ; 
But brands my innocence with horrid crimes ; 
And for the tender names of child and daughter, 
Now calls me murderer and parricide. 

King. Rife, I command thee — and if thou would 
Acquit thyfelf of thofe detefted names, 
Swear thou haft never feen that foreign dog, 
Now doom'dto die, that moft accurfed Ofmyn. 

Aim. Never, but as with innocence I might, 
And free of all bad purpofes. So Heaven's 
My witnefs. 

King. Vile equivocating wretch ! 
With innocence ! Oh, patience ! hear — fhe owns it ! 
Confefles it ! By Heav'n, I'll have him rack'd, 
Torn, mangled, flay'd, impal'd — all pains and tortures 
That wit of man and dire revenge can think, 
Shall he, accumulated, underbear. 

Aim. Oh, I am loft. There fate begins to wound. 

King. Hear me, then; if thou canft reply; know, 

I'm not to learn that curs'd Alphonfo lives ; 

Nor am I ignorant what Ofmyn is 

Aim. Then all is ended, and we both muft die. 
Since thou'rt reveal'd, alone thou flialt not die. 
And yet alone would I have dy'd, Heav'n knows, 
Repeated deaths, rather than have reveal'd thee. 

* Yes, all my father's wounding wrath, tho' each 

* Reproach cuts deeper than the keeneft fword, 

* And cleaves my heart, I wou'd have borne it all, 

' Nay 


* Nay all the pains that are prepar'd for thee ; 

* To the remorfeleis rack I wou'd have giv'n 

4 This weak and tender flefh, to have been bruis'd 

* And torn, rather than have reveal'd thy being.' 
King, Hell, hell ! Do I hear this, and yet endure ! 

What, dar'ft thou to my face avow thy guilt ? 
Hence, ere I curfe — fly my juft rage with fpeed ; 
Left I forget us both, and fpurn thee from me. 

Aim. And yet a father ! Think, I am your child ! 
Turn not your eyes away — look on me kneeling ; 
Now curfe me if you can, now fpurn me off. 
Did ever father curfe his kneeling child ? 
Never ; for always blelfmgs crown that pofture. 
4 Nature inclines, and halfway meets that duty, 

* Stooping to raife from earth the filial reverence ; 
4 For bended knees returning folding arms, 

4 With pray'rs, and bleffings, and paternal love.' 
Oh, hear me then, thus crawling on the earth——— 

King. Be thou advis'd, and let me go, while yet 
The light impreflion thou haft made remains. 

Aim. No, never will I rife, nor lofe this hold, 
'Till you aremov'd, and grant that he may live. 

King. Ha ! Who hiay live ? Take heed ! No more of 
For on my foul he dies, tho' thou and I, [that ; 

And all fhou'd follow to partake his doom. 

Away, off, let me go Call her attendants. 

[Leonora and women return. 
Aim. Drag me ; harrow the earth with my bare bofum ; 
I will not go 'till you have fpar'd :nv hufband. 

King. Ha ! 6 What lav 'ft thou ?' Hufband ! 4 Hufband ! 
damnation ! 
4 What hufband!' Which? Who? 
Aim. He, he is my hulband. 
King. 4 Poifon and daggers !' Who ? 

Aim. Oh {Faints, 

4 Gonf. Help, fupport her.' 
Aim. Let me go, let me fall, fink deep — PIJ dig, 
I'll' dig a grave, and tear up death ; 4 I will ; 
* I'll fcrape, 'till I colled: his rotten bone?^^ 

And cloath their hakednefs with myo«n flefli 
Yes, I will.iirip qfflife, and we wilKnange ; 

E I will 


I will be death ; then, tho' you kill my hufband, 
He (hall be mine frill, and for ever mine. 

King, What hufband ? Whom doll: thou mean ? 

Gonf. She raves ! 

Aim. 4 Oh, that I did.' Ofmyn, he is my hufband. 

King, Ofmyn ! 

Aim. Not Ofmyn, but Alphonfo, is my dear 

And wedded hufband Heav'n, and air, andfeas, 

Ye winds and waves, I call ye all to witnefs. 

King. Wilder than winds or waves thyfelf doit rave. 
,Shou'd I hear more, I too (hou'd catch thy madnefs. 
' Yetfomewhat (he mull mean of dire import, 
* Which I'll not hear, 'tiil I am more at peace.' 
Watch her returning fenfe, and bring me word ; 
And look that {he attempt not on her life. \_Exit King. 

Aim. Oh, flay, yet it ay ; hear me, I am not mad. 
I wou'dto Heav'n I were He's gone. 

Gonf. Have comfort. 

Aim. Curs'd be that tongue that bids me be of com- 
fort ; 

Curs'd my own tongue, that could not move his pity ; 
Curs'd thefe weak hands, that could not hold him here ; 
For he is gone to doom Alphonfo's death. 

Gonf. Your too exceffive grief works on your fancy, 
And deludes youi fenfe. Alphonfo, if living, 
Is far from hence, beyond your father's pow'r. 

Aim, Hence, thou deteited, iil-tim'd flatterer ; 
Source of my woes : thou and thy race be curs'd ; 
But doubly thou, who couldft alone have policy 
And fraud to find the fatal fecret out, 
And know that Ofmyn was Alphonfo. 

Gonf. Ha ! 

Aim. Why dofl thou flart ? What do ft thou fee or 
"Was it the doleful bell, tolling for death ? ^ [hear ? 
Or dying groans from my Alphonfo's breait ? 
See, 'fee, look yonder ! where a grizzled, pale, 
And g'mftly herd glares by, all fmear'd with blood, 
Gafplng ab \t would fpeak ; and after, fee ; 
Behold a darnj> % dead hand has dropp'd a dagger : 
I'll catch it — Ha^ | a voice cries murder ! ah ! 
My father's voice ! v Uow it founds, and calls 


Me from the tomb— I'll follow it ; for there 
I mall again behold my dear Alphonfo. 

[Exeunt Almeria an J Leonora* 

Gonf. She's greatly grieved ; nor am I lefs furprizM. 
Ofmyn, Alphonfo! No; ihe over rates 
My policy ; I ne'er fufpec~ted it : 
Nor now had known it, but from her miftake. 
Her hulband too ! Ha ! Where is Garcia then ? 
And where the crown that fhou'd defcend on him, 
To grace the line of my pofterity ? 
Hold, let me think if I (hould tell the king- 
Things come to this extremity : his daughter 

Wedded already what if he fliould yield ? 

Knowing no remedy for what is pail, 
And urg'dby nature pleading for his child, 
With which he feems to be already fhaken. 
And tho* I know he hates beyond the grave 

Amfelmo's race; yet if that If concludes me. 

To doubt, when I may be aflar'd, is folly. 
But how prevent the captive queen, who means 
To fet him free ? Ay, now 'tis plain. O well 
Invented tale ! He was Alphonlb's friend.- 
This fubtle woman will amufe the king. 

If I delay-- 'twill do ait better fo. 

One to my wifh. Alonzo, thou art welcome. 

Enter Alonzo. 

A/on. The king expects your lordfhip. 

Qonf. 'Tis no matter. 
I'm not i'theway at prefent, good Alonzo. 

Alon. IPt pleafe your lordfhip, I'll return, and fay 
I have notfeen you. 

Gonf. Do, my belt Alonzo. 

Yet ftay, I would but go ; anon will ferve 

Yet I have that requires thy fpeedy help. 

I think thou wou'dit not flop to do me fervice. 

A/on. I am your creature. 

Gonf. Say thou art my friend. 
I've feen thy fword do noble execution. 

A/on. All that it can your lordfliip (hall command. 

Gonf. Thanks ; and I take thee at thy word. Thou'fc 
Amongft the followers of the captive queen, [feen,. 
Dumb men, who make their meaning known by figns. 

E z A/on,. 


Alon. I have, my lord. 

Gon. Couldft thou procure, with fpeed 
And privacy, the wearing garb of one 
Of thofe, tho' purchas'd by his death, I'd give 
Thee fuch reward, as fliou'd exceed thy wiih. [fhip? 

Alon, Conclude it done. Where fhall I wait your lord- 

Gon,. At my apartment. Ufe thy utmoit diligence ; 
And fay iVe not been feen— Haftc, good Alonzo. [Ex. Al. 
So, this can hardly fail. Alphonfo (lain, 
The greateft obftacle is then remov'd. 
Almeria widow'd, yet again may wed : 
And I yet fix the crown on Garcia's head. [ Exit. 

End of the Fourth Act. 

A C T V. 

SCENE, a room of fate. 

Enter King, Perez, and Alonzo, 

T^YOT to be found ! In an ill hour he's abfent. 
X\l None, fay you ? none ! What, not the fav'rite 
eunuch ? 

Nor me herfelf, nor any of her mutes, 
Have yet requir'd admittance ? 
Per. None, my lord. 

King, Is Ofmyn fo difpos'd as I commanded ? 

Per. Fall bound in double chains, and at full length 
He lies fupine on earth ; with as much eafe 
She might remove the centre of this earth, 
As loofethe rivets of his bonds. 

King. 'Tis.well. 

[A mute appear s, and feeing the king, retires > 
Ha ! Hop, and feize that mute; Alonzo, follow him, 
Ent'ring he met my eyes, and Itarted back, 
Frighted, and fumbling one hand in his bofem, 
As to conceal th' importance of his errand. 

fAionzo follows /jim 9 and returns with a paper, 

Alon. A bloody proof of obdinate fidelity ! 

King. What dolt thou mean ? 



Alon, Soon as I feiz'd the man, 
He fhatch'd from out his bofom this — and ftrove 
With rafli and greedy hafte, at once, to cram 
The morfeldown his throat. I caught his arm, 
And hardly wrench'd his hand to wring it from him ; 
Which done, he drew a poignard from his fide, 
And on the inftant plung'd it in his breaft. 

King. Remove the body thence, ere Zara fee it. 

Alon. I'll be fo bold to borrow his attire ; 
'Twill quit me of my promife to Gonfalez. \_Afide. Exit* 

* Per. Whate'er it is, the king's complexion turns.' 

King. How's this ? My mortal foe beneath my roof ! 

[Having read the letter*. 
Oh, give me patience, all ye powers ! No, rather 
Give me new rage, implacable revenge, 
And trebled fury Ha ! who's there ? 

Per. My lord. [pry 

King. Hence, (lave ! how dar'ft thou bide, to watch and 
Into how poor a thing a king defcends, 
How like thyfelf, when paffion treads him down ? 
Ha ! ftir not, on thy life ; for thou wert fix'd, 
And planted here, to fee me gorge this bait, 
And lam againft the hook — By Heav'n, you're all 
Rank traitors ; thou art with the reft combin'd ; 
Thou knew'ft thatOfmyn was Alphonfo ; knew 'it 
My daughter privately with him conferr'd ; 
And wert thefpy and pander to their meeting. 

Per. By all that's holy, I'm amaz'd 

King. Thouly'il:. 
Thou art accomplice too with Zara ; here 
Where fhefets down — Still will I fet thee free — [Reading, 
That fomewhere is repeated — / have power 
O'er them that are thy guards — Mark that, thou traitor.. 

Per. It was your majefly's command I mould 
Obey her order. 

King. [Reading.]- And Jlill will I fet 

Thee free, Alphonfo Hell ! curs'd, curs'd Alphonfo ! 

Falfe and perfidious Zara ! Strumpet daughter ! 
Away, begone, thou feeble boy, fond love ; 
All nature, fofrnefs, pity and companion, 
This hour I throw ye off, and entertain 
Fell hate within my breafl, revenge and gall. 

E 3 By 


By Heav'n, I'll meet, and counterwork this treachery. 
Hark thee, villain, traitor — anfwer me, flave. 

Per. My fervice has not merited thofe titles. 

King, Dar'It thou reply ? 4 Take that' — thy fervice ! 
thine ! 4 [Strikes him? 

What's thy whole life, thy foul, thy all, to my 
One moment's cafe ? Hear my command j and look 
That thou obey, or horror on thy head : 
Drench me thy dagger in Alphonfo's heart. 
Why dolt thou ltart? Refolve, or ■ 

Per. Sir, I will. 

King. 'Tis well — that when {he comes to fet him free, 
His teeth may grin, and mock at her remorfe. 

[Perez going, 
— Stay thee— I've farther thought— I'll add to this, 
And give her eyes yet greater difappointment : 
When thou haft ended him, bring me his robe ; 
And let the cell where fhe'il expect to fee him 
Be darken'd, foasto amufe the fight. 

I'll be conducted thither mark me well 

There with his turbant, and his robe array'd, 
And laid along, as he now lies, fupine, 
I fhall convict her, to her face, of falfhood. 
When for Alphonfo's fhe fhall take my hand, 
And breathe her lighs upon my lips for his ; 
Sudden I'll ftart and dafh her with her guilt. 
But fee, fhe comes. I'lllhunth' encounter; thou 
Follow me, and give heed to my direction. [Exeunt. 
Enter 7jZX& and Seiim. 

Za. 4 The mute not yet return'd !' ha ! 'twas the king,. 
The king that parted hence 1 frowning he went ; 

* His eyes like meteors roll'd, then darted down 

* Their red and angry beams ; as if his fight 

6 Would, like the raging do.g-ftar 7 fcorch the earth, 
4 And kindle ruin in its courfe Doft think 
He law me ? 

Sel. Yes : but then, as if he thought 
His eyes had err'd, he haftily recali'd 
Th' imperfect look, and llernly turn'd away. 

Za. Shun me when feen ! 1 fear thou halt undone me. 
4 Thy fhallow artifice begets fufpicion, 
4 And, like a cobweb veil, but thinly fhades 

4 The 


' The face of thy defign ; alone difguifing 

6 What mould have ne'er been feen ; imperfect mifchief ! 

' Thou, like the adder, venomous and deaf, 

* Haft ftung the traveller, and after hear'ft 

4 Not his purfuing voice ; e'en when thou think'ft 

* To hide, the milling leaves and bended grafs 

* Confefs and point the path which thou haft crept. 
' Oh, fate of fools ! officious in contriving ; 

* In executing, puzzled, lame, and loft.' 

Set. Avert, it Heav'n, that you mould ever fuffer 
For my defect ; or that the means which I 
Devis'd to ferve, fhould ruin your defign. 
Prefcienceis Heav'n's alone, not giv'n to man. 
If I have fail'd, in what, as being man,. 
I needs muft fail ; impute not as a crime 
My nature's want, but punifh nature in me ; 
I plead not for a pardon, and to live, 
But to be punifh'd and forgiven. Here, ftrike £ 
I bare my bread to meet your juft revenge. 

Za. I have not leifure now to take fo poor 
A forfeit as thy life ; fomewhat of high 
And more important fate requires my thought.. 
4 When I've concluded on myfelf, if I 
' Think fit, I'll leave thee my command to die.' 
Regard me well ; and dare not to reply 
To what I give in charge ; for I'm refolv'd. 
Give order that the two remaining mutes 
Attend me inftantly, with each a bowl 
Of fuch ingredients mix'd, as will with fpeed 
Benumb the living faculties, and give 
Moll eafy and inevitable death. 
Yes, Ofmyn, yes .; be Ofmyn or Alphonfo, 
I'll give thee freedom, if thou dar'ft be free : 
Such liberty as I embrace myfelf, 
Thou fhalt partake.. Since fates no more afford ; 
I can but die with thee, to keep my word. [Exeunt, 

SCENE openings Jhe-zvs the prifon. 

Enter Gofalez difguifcd like a mute, with a dagger. 
Gon. Nor centinel, nor guard ! the doors unbarr'd ! 
And all as ftill, as at the noon of night ! 
Sure death already has been bufy here. 



There lies my way ; that door too is unlock'd. [Looking in* 

Ha ! fure he ileeps— all's dark within, fave what 

A lamp, that feebly lifts a fickly flame, 

By fits reveals — his facefeems turn'd, to favour 

Th' attempt : I'll ileal and do it unperceiv'd. 

What noife ! fomebody coming ? 'ft, Alonzo? 

Nobody. Sure he'll wait without 1 would 

*Tweredone — I'll crawl, and fling him to the heart, 
Then call my fkin, and leave it there to anfwer it. [(Joes iru 
Enter Garcia and Alonzo. 
Gar, Where, where, Alonzo, where's my father ? 

The king ? Confufion ! all is on the rout ! 
All's loft, all ruin'd by furprize and treachery. 
Where, where is he 1 Why doft thou miflead me ? 

Alon, My lord, he enter'd but a moment iince, 
And could not pafs me unperceiv'd — What hoa ! 
My lord, my lord ! What hoa ! my lord Gonlaiez ! 
Enter Gonfalez bloody. 

Gon, Perdition choak your clamours— -—whence this 
Garcia ! [rudeneis ? 

Gar, Perdition, flavery, and death, 
Are ent'ring now our doors. Where is the king ? 
What means this blood ; and why this face of horror ? 

Gon. No matter-— give me firft to know the caufe 
Of thefe your rafh, and ill-tim'd exclamations. 

Gar. The eaftern gate is to the foe betray'd, 
Who, but for heaps of (lain that choak the paflage, 
Had enter'd long ere now, and borne down all 
Before 'em, to the palace walls. Unlefs 
The king in perfon animate our men, 
Granada's loft ; and to confirm this fear, 
The traitor Perez, and the captive Moor, 
Are through a poftern fled, and join the foe. 

Gon. Would all were falfe as that ; for whom you call 
The Moor is dead. That Ofmyn was Alphonio ; 
In whofe heart's blood this poignard yet is warm. 

Gar. Impoffible ; for Oimyn was, while hying, 
Fronounc'd aloud by Perez for Alphonio. 

Gon. Enter that chamber, and convince your eyes, 
How much report has wrong'd your eafy faith. 

[ N Garcia£0« nr. 



Alon. My lord, for certain truth Perez is fled; 
And has declar'd, the caufe of his revolt 
Was to revenge a blow the king had giv'n him. 

Gar. [Returning.'] Ruin and horror ! Oh, heart-wound- 
ing fight ! 

Gon. What fays myfon? What ruin? Ha! what horror? 

Gar. Blafted my eyes, and fpeechlefs be my tongue, 
Rather than or to fee, or to relate 
This deed— Oh, dire miftake ! Oh, fatal blow ! 
The king < 

Gon. Alon. The king ! 

Gar. Dead, welt'ring, drown'd in blood. 
See, fee, attir'd like Ofmyn, where he lies. [They look in* 
Oh, whence, or how, or wherefore was this done ? 
But what imports the manner or the caufe ? 
Nothing remains to do, or to require, 
But that we all mould turn ourfwords agamif. 
Ourfelves, and expiate with our own, his blood. 

Gon. Oh, wretch ! Oh, curs'd and rafh deluded fool ! 
On me, on me turn your avenging fwords. 
I, who have fpilt my royal mailer's blood, 
Should make atonement by a death as horrid, 
And fall beneath the hand of my own fon. 

Gar. Ha! what! atone this murder with a greater ! 
The horror of that thought has damp'd my rage. 

* The earth already groans to bear this deed ; 

* Opprefs her not, nor think to Itain her face 

4 With more unnatural blood. Murder my father 1 
4 Better with this to rip up my own bowels, 
4 And bathe it to the hilt, in far lefs damnable 
4 Self-murder.' 

Gon. Oh, my fon ! from the blind dotage 
Of a father's fondnefs thefe ills arofe. 
For thee I've been ambitious, bafe, and bloody : 
For thee I've plung'd into this feaof lin ; 
Stemming the tide with only one weak hand, 
While t'other bore the crown (to wreathe thy brow) 
W hofe weight has funk me, ere I reach'd the fhore. 

Gar. Fatal ambition ! Hark! the foe is enter'd : [Shout \ 
The (hrillnefs of that fhout fpeaks them at hand. 
4 We have no time to fearch into the caufe 
c Of this furprifing and mofl fatal error. 

4 What's 


' What's to be done ? the king's death known, would 
' The few remaining foldiers with defyair, [ftrike 
* And make them yield to mercy of the conqueror.' 

Alon. My lord, I've thought how to conceal the body. 
Require me not to tell the means, till done, 
Left you forbid what you may then approve. 

[Goes in. Shout. 

Gon. They fhout again ! Whate'er he means to do, 
? Twere fit the foldiers were amus'd with hopes ; 
And in the mean time fed with expectation 
To fee the king in perfon at their head. 

Gar. Were it a truth, I fear 'tis now too late. 
But I'll omit no care, nor hade, ; and try, 
Or to repel their force, or bravely die. [Exit Garcia. 
Re-enter Alonzo. 

Gon. What haft thou done, Alonzo ? 

Alon, Such a deed, 
As but an hour ago I'd nothai r e done, 
Though for the crown of univerfai empire. 
But what are kings redue'd to common clay ? 
Or who can wound the dead ? — I've from the bod/ 
Sever'd the head, and in an obfeure corner 
Difpos'd it, muffied in the mute's attire, 
Leaving to view of them who enter next, 
Alone the undiilinguimable trunk : 
Which may be lull miftaken by the guards 
For Ofmyn, if in feeking for the king, 
They chance to find it. 

Gon. 'Twas an ac\ of horror ; 
And of a piece with this day's dire mifdeeds. 
But 'tis no time to ponder or repent. 
Hafte thee, Alonzo, hafte thee hence with fpeed, 
To aid my fon. I'll follow with the lait 
Referve, to reinforce his arms : at lealt, 
I fliall make good and fhelter his retreat. 

[Exeunt fever ally. 

Enter Zara, followed by Selim, and two ?r:utes bearing 
the bowls. 

Za. Silence and folitude are every where. 
Through all the gloomy ways and iron doors 
That hither lead, nor human face nor voice 
Is feen ©r heard, ' A dreadful din was wont 

« To 


* To grate the fenfe, when enter'd here, from groans 

* And howls of Haves condemn'd ; from clink of chains, 
4 And cram of rufty bars and creeking hinges : 

' And ever and anon the fight was daffi'd 

' With frightful faces, and the meagre looks 

' Of grim and ghaftly executioners. 

* Yet moie this ftillnefs terrifies my foul, 

' Than did that fcene of complicated horrors. 

* It may be that the caufe of this my errand 

' And purpofe, being chang'd from life to death, 

* Had alfo wrought this chilling change of temper. 

* Or does my heart bode more ? What can it more 

* Than death?' 

Let 'em fet down the bowls, and warn Alphonfo 
That I am here — fo. You return and find 

[Mutes going in. 
The king ; tell him, what he requir'd, I've done, 
And wait his coming to approve the deed. [Exit Selim, 
Enter Mutes. 

Zara, What have you feen ? Ha ! wherefore Ilare you 
thus [The mutes return and look ajfrighiecL 

With haggard eyes r Why are your arms acrofs ? 
Your heavy and defponding heads hung down ? 
Why is'tyou more than fpeak in thefe fad ligns ? 
Give me more ample knowledge of this mourning. 

1 [ They go to the/cene y ivhicb openings jhe 

perceives the boiiy. 

Ha ! profcrate ! bloody ! headlefs ! Oh I'm loft. 

Oh, Ofmyn ! Oh, Alphcnio ! Cruel fate ! 
Cruel, cruel, Oh, more than killing object ! 
I came prepar'd to die, and fee thee die — 
Nay, came prepar'd my felt" to give thee death— 

But cannot bear to find thee thus, my Ofmyn 

Oh, this accurs'd, this bale, this treach'rous king ! 
Enter Selim. 

Selim. I've fought in vain, for no where can the king 
Be found 

$ Zar. Get thee to hell, and feek him there. [Stub* him. 
His hellim rage had wanted means to ru r, 
But for thy fatal and pernicious counfel. 

Sel. You thought it better then but I'm rewarded. 

The mute you fent, by fome mifchance was feen, 



And forc'd to yield your letter with his life ; 

I found the dead and bloody body ftripp'd 

My tongue faukers, and my voice fails 1 fink 

Diink not the poifon — for Alphonfo is [Die 

Zar. As thou art now — and I mall quickly be. 
'Tis not that he is dead : for 'twas decreed 
We both mould die. Nor is't that I furvive ; 
I have a certain remedy for that. 
But, Oh, he dy'd unknowing in my heart. 
He knew I lov'd, but knew not to what height : 
Nor that I meant to fall before his eyes, 
A martyr and a victim to my vows. 
Inlenfible of this laft proof he's gone ; 

• Yet fate alone can rob his morral part 

6 Of fenfe ; his foul flill fees and knows each purpofe, 

* And fix'd event, of my perlilting faith.' 
Then wherefore do I paufe ? Give me the bowl. 

[A mute kneels and gives one of the hoavh, 
Hover a moment, yet, thou gentle lpirit, 
Soul of my love, and I will wait thy flight. 
This to our mutual blifs, when join'd above. [Drink: 
Oh, friendly draught, already in my heart. 
Cold, cold ; my veins are icicles and froft. 
I'll creep into his bofom, lay me there; 
Cover us clofe — or I fhall chill his breaft, 
And fright him from my arms — See, fee, he Aides 
Still farther from me ; look, he hides his face, 
I cannot feel it — quite beyond my reach, — 

Oh, now he's gone, and all is dark [Dies, 

[ Ibe mutes kneel and mourn v-ver ber+ 
Enter Almeria and Leonora. 

Aim. Oh, let me feekhim in this horrid cell; 
For in the tomb, or prifon, I alone 
Iviuft hope to find him. 

Leon. Heavens ! what difmal fcene 
Of death is this ? The eunuch Selim flam ! 

Aim, Shew me, for I am come in feareh of death ; 
Eut want a guide ; for tears have dimm'd my fight* 

Leon, Alas, a little farther: and behold 
Zara all pale and dead ! two frightful men, 
Who feem the murderers, kneel Weeping by : 
Feeling remorfe too late lor what they've done. 


But, Oh, forbear— lift up your eyes no more } 
But hafte away, fly from this fatal place, 
Where miferies are multipl) 'd ; return, 
Return, and look not on ; for there's a dagger 
Ready to ftab the fight, and make your eyes 

Rain blood . 

Aim. Oh, I foreknow, forefee that object. 
Is it at laft then fo ? Is he then dead ? 
« What, dead at laft? quite, quite, for every dead f 

* There, there, I fee him ; there he lies, the blood 

1 Yet babbling from his wounds— Oh, more than lavage . 
« Had they orhearts or eyes that did this deed ? 
« Could eyes endure to guide fuch cruel hands ? 

* Are not my eyes guilty alike with theirs, 

' That thus can gaze, and yet not turn to ftone ? 

I do not weep ! The fprings of tears are dry d ; 

And of a fudden I am calm, as if 

AH things were well ; and yet my hufbard's murder d 

Yes, yes, I know to mourn S I'll fluicc this heart, 

The fource of woe, and let the torrent loofe. 

, Thofe men have left to weep ! they look on me . 

I hope they murder all on whom they look. 

Behold me well ; your bloody hands have err'd, 

And wrongfully have llain thofe innocents : 

I am the iacrifice defign'd to bleed, 

And come prepar'd to yield my throat' They make 

Their heads in fign of grief and innocence ! 

[They point at the bowl on the ground. 

And point ! What mean they ? Ha ! a cup ; Oh, well, 

I underftand what med'cine has been here. 

Oh, noble thirft ! yet greedy to drink all — 

Oh, for another draught of death * What mean 

th ey ? [5 hey point at the other cup* 

4 Ha ! point again !' 'tis there, and full, I hope. 

Thanks to the lib'ral hand that fill'd thee thus, 

I'll drink my glad acknowledgment 

Lccn. Oh, hold 
For mercy's fake, upon my knee I beg— 

With thee the kneeling world mould beg in vain. 
Seeft thou not there ? Behold who pro ft rate lies, 
And pleads againft thee ; who (hall then prevail ? 
Yet 1 will take a cold and. parting leave 
From his pale lips ; I'll kits him ere I drink, 

F Left 


Left the rank juice fhould bliner on my mouth, 
And ftain the colour of my laft adieu. 
Horror ! a headlefs trunk ! nor lips nor face, 

[Coming near the hcdy, Jlarts and lets fill the cup* 
But fpouting veins, and mangled fiefh ! Oh,* Oh ! 
Enter Alphonfo, Heli, Perez, with Garcia prifoner* 

Guards and attendants. 
Alph. Away, ftand off, where is fhe ? let me fly, 
Save her from death, and fnatch her to my heart/ 
; Aim. Oh ! 

Alph. Forbear ; my arms alone fhall hold her up, 
Warm her to life, and wake her into gladnefs. 
' Oh, let me talk to thy reviving fenfe 
' The words of joy and peace ; warm thy cold beauties 
' * With the new flufhing ardour of my cheek ; 
'Into thy lips pour the foft trickling balm 
' Or cordial fighs; and reinfpive thy bofom 

* With the breath of love. Shine, awake, Almeria,' 
Give a new birth to thy long-fliaded eyes, 

Then double on the day reflected light. 

Aim. Where am I ? Heav'n! what does this dream in- 
tend $ 

Alph. Oh, may'ft thou never dream of lefs delight, 
Nor ever wake to lefs fubftantial joys. 

Aim, Giv'n me again from death ! Oh, all ye pow'rs, 
, Confirm this miracle ! Can I believe 
My fight 4 againft my fight ? and fliall I truft 
' That fenfe, which in one inftant (hews him dead 

* And living?' — Yes, I will; I've been abus'd 
With apparitions and affrighting phantoms : 
This is my lord, my life, my only hufband, 

I have him now, and we no more will part. 

!] My father too fhall have companion 

Alph. Oh, my heart's comfort ; 'tis not giv'n to this 
Frail life, to be intirely blefs'd. E'en now, 
In this extremeft joy my foul can talle, 
Yet I am dafn'd to think that thou muff weep ; 
Thy father fell where he defign'd my death. 
Gonfaiez and Alonzo, both of wounds 
Expiring, have, with their laft breath, confefs'd 
Thejuft decrees of Heav'n, which on themfelves 
Has turn'd their own moft bloody purpofes, 

3 Nay, 


Nay, I rauft grant, 'tis fit you fhould be thus 

[She weeps* 

' Let 'em remove the body from her fight.' 
Ill-fated Zara ! Ha ! a cup ! Alas ! 
Thy error then is plain ! but I were flint 
Not to o'erflow in tribute to thy memory. 
Oh, Garcia! 

Whofe virtue has renounc'd thy father's crimes, 
Seeft thou, howjuft the hand of Heav'n has been ?- 
Let us, who through our innocence furvive, 
Still in the paths of honour perfevere, 
And not from pail or prefent ills defpair ; 
For bleffings ever wait on virtuous deeds ; 
And though a late, a fure reward fucceeds. 

[Exeunt omnej^ 

End of the Fifth Act,. 


mm mm 


Spoken by Almeria. 

t'JHE tragedy thus done, 3 am, you know^ 

No more a princefi, but in itatu quo ; 
And now as unconcern d this mourning iyear 9 
As if indeed a widow, or an heir. 
J've leifure, now, to mark your Jbv r ral faces, 
And know each critic by his four grimaces. 
To poifon plays, 1 fee them where they Jit, 
Scatter d^ like ratjbane, up and down the pit ; 
While others watch, like pa> ijb-fearchers hird, 
To tell of what difeafe the play expired. 
Oh, with what joy they run to fpread the new 
Of a damnd poet, and departed mule ! 
But if he fcape, with what regret they're fci^d I 
And how they re difapbointed, when they re pleas* i 
Critics to pl'-ys for the fame end refort, 
That furgcons wait on trials in a court : 
For innocence conde'ii/i d they' W no rrfpcfl, 
Provided they've a tydyjo difjett. 
As Sujfex men, that dwell- upon the fiwre, 
Look out when forms arife, and billows roar. 
Devoutly praying, with uplifted hands, 
That fome well -laden J, hip may fir ike the funds , 
To nx>hofc rich cargo they ?nay make pretence, 
And fatten on the f polls of Brovidence : 
So critics throng to fee a new play Jp' it, 
And thrive and pro/per on the wrecks of wit. 
Small hope ow poet from tbefe profpefts draws; 
And therefore to the fair commends, his caufe. 
Tour tender hearts to mercy are inclind, 
With whom, he hopes, this play will favour find, 
Which was an offering to the fx drfign'd, 


+ a- 




As written by € O N G R E V E. 




tC5eatce=lilLopal in SDgir^Xane. 

Regulated from the Prompt-Book. 


By Mr. HOPK1N S, Prompter. 


Printed far John Bell, near Exeter- E>:chitnge t In the Strand. 


t 3 J 

To the Right Honourable 



S I R, 

I Heartily wi(h this play were as perfect as I intended 
it, that it might be more worthy your acceptance ; 
and that my Dedication of it to you might be more be- 
coming that honour and elteem which I, with every bo» 
dy who is fo fortunate as to know you, have for you. 
It had your countenance when yet unknown ; and now it 
is made public, it wants your protection. 

I would not have any body imagine, that I think this 
play without its faults, for I am confcioue of feveral. I. 
conrefs I defigned (whatever vanity or ambition ocea- 
iioned that defign) to have written a true and regular co- 
medy; but I found it an undertaking which put me in 

mind of Sudet multum, frujlraque laboret aufus idctn. 

And now to make amends for the vanity of fuch a de- 
lign, I do confefs both the attempt, and the imperfect 
performance. Yet I muft take the boldnefs to lay, I 
have not mifcarried in the whole ; for the mechanical 
part of it is regular. That 1 may fay with a little vani- 
ty, as a builder may fay, he has built a houfe according 
to the model laid down before him ; or a gardener that 
he has fet his flowers in a knot of fuch or luch a figure. 
I defigned the moral firft, and to that moral I invented' 
the fable, and do not know that 1 have borrowed one 
hint of it any where. I made the plot as ftrong as I 
could, becaufe it was fingle ; and I made it fingle, be- 
caufe I would avoid confufion, and was refolved to pre- 
ferve the three unities of the Drama. Sir, this dif- 
courfe is very impertinent to you, whofe judgment much 
better can difcern the faults, than I can excufe them ; 
and whole good-nature, like that of a lover, will find 
A 2 out 

I 4 } 

cut thofe hidden beauties (if there are any fuch) which 
it would be great immodefty for me todifcover. I think 
I do not fpeak improperly when I call you a Lover of 
Poetry ; for it is very well known (he has been a very 
kind miftrefs to you ; fhe has not denied you the raft fa- 
vour, and fhe has been fruitful to you in a mo ft beauti- 
ful ilTue — If I break off abruptly here, I hope every bo- 
dy will underftand that it is to avoid a commendation, 
which, as ir is your due, would be moft eafy for me to 
pay, and too troublefome for you to receive. 

I have, fince the acting of this play, hearkened a fier 
the objections which have been made to it ; for I was 
eonfcious where a true critic might have put me upon 
my defence, I was prepared for the attack; and am 
pretty confident I could have vindicated tome parts, and 
excufed others ; and where there were any plain mifcar- 
riages,. I would moft. ingenuoufly have confefted them! 
But I have not heard any thing laid fufhcient to provoke 
an anfwer. That which looks moft like an objection, 
dee? not relate in particular to this play, but to all or 
molt that ever have been written ; and that is foliloquy. 
Therefore I will anfwer it, not only for my own fake,: 
but to fave ethers the trouble, to whom it may here- 
after be objected. 

I grant, that for a man to talk to himfelf, appears ah*- 
furd and unnatural ; and indeed it is lb in moft cafes : 
but the circurnftances which may attend the occafio* 
make great alteration. It oftentimes happens to a man,- 
to have defigns which require him to himfelf, and in? 
their nature cannot admit of a confident. Such, for 
certain, is all villainy ; and other lefs mifchievous in- 
tentions may be very improper to be communicated to a 
fecond perfon. In fuch a cafe, therefore, the audience 
muft oblerve whether the perfon upon the ftage takes any 
notice of them at all, or no. For if he fuppofes any 
one to be by, when he talks to himfelf, it is monftrous 
and ridiculous to the laft degree ; nay, not only in this 
cafe, but in any part of a play, if there is exprefled any 
knowledge of an audience, it is infufferable. But other- 
wife, w r hen a man in foliloquy reafons with himfelf, and 
pro\ and aw's, and weighs all flis defigrts, we ought nor 
to imagine that this man either talks to us, or to himfelf; 
"he is only thinking, and thinking fucb matter as were 


[ s 3 

inexcufable folly In him tofpeak. But becaufe we are 
concealed fpeetators of the plot in agitation, and the poet 
finds it neceflary to let us know the whole myftery of this 
contrivance, he is willing to inform us of this perfon's 
thoughts ; and to that end is forced to make ufe of the 
expedient of fpeech, no better way being yet invented 
for the communication of thought. 

Another very wrong objection has been made by fbme 
who have not taken leifure to diftinguiih the characters.. 
The hero of the play as they are pleafed to call him r 
(meaning Mellefont) is a gull, and made a fool, and 
cheated. Is every man a gull and a fool that is deceived ? 
At that rate I am afraid the two dalles of men will be re- 
duced to one, and the knaves themfelves be at a lofs to 
jollify their title; but if an open-hearted honeft man, 
who has an entire confidence in one whom he takes to be 
his friend, and whom he has obliged to be fo ; and who 
(to confirm him in his op nion) in all appearance, and 
upon feveral trials, has been fo ; if this man be deceived 
by the treachery or the other, muff, he of neceflity com- 
mence fool immediately, only becaufe the other has pro- 
ved a villain ? Ay, but there was a caution given to 
Mellefont, in the' firft aft, by his friend Carelefs. Of 
what nature was that caution ? only to give the audience 
fbme light into the charadter of Mafkwell before his ap- 
pearance, and not to convince Mellefont of his treachery ; 
for that was more than Carelefs was then able to do : he 
never knew Malkwell guilty of any villainy j he was on- 
ly a fort of man which he did not like. As for his fuf- 
pecting his familarity with my Lady Touchwood, let 
them examine the anfwer that Mellefont makes him,, 
and compare it with the conduct of Malkwell's character 
through the play. 

I would beg them again to look into the character of 
Malkwell before they accufe Mellefont of weaknefs for 
being deceived by him. For upon fumming up the en- 
quiry into this objection, it may befound they have mif- 
taken cunning in one character for folly in another. 

But there is one thing, at which I am more concerned 
than all the falfe criticifns that are made upon me ; and' 
that is, ibme of the ladies re offended. I am heartily 
forry for it ; for I declare I would rather difoblige all 
the critics in the world, than one of the fair-icx. They 
A 3 are 

t & 3 

avc concerned that I have represented fome women vici- 
ous and affected : Plow can I help it ? It is the bulinefs of 
a coauc poet to paint the vices and tollies of human-kind - ; 
and there are but two fexes, male and female, men and 
fjsomen^ which have a title to humanity : and if I leave 
one hair of them out r the work will be imperfect. I 
fnould be very glad of an opportunity to make my com- 
pliment to thole ladies who are oflended ; but they can 
no more expert it in a comedy, than to be tickled by afmv 
geon when he is letting them blood* They who are vir- 
tuous or difcreet (Lould net be oflended ; for fuch charac- 
ters as thele diitinguifli them, and make their beauties 
more mining and obferved : and they who are of the 
other kind, may neverthelefs pafs for fuch, by feeming 
not to be difpleafed, or touched with the fatire of this 
Comedy. Thus have they alfo wrongfully accufed me of 
doing them a prejudice, when I have in reality dons 
them a fervice. 

You will pardon me, Sir, for the freedom I take of 
making anfwers to otner people, in an epiflle which 
ought wholly to be facred to you : but iince ! intend th* 
play to be fo too, I hope I may take the more liberty of 
juftifying it where it is in the righi. 

I muff now, Sir, declare to the world how kind you 
have been to my endeavours ; for in regard of what was 
well meant, you have exeuied what was ill performed. 
I beg you would continue the fame method in your ac- 
ceptance of this dedication. I know no other way of ma* 
king a return to that humanity you (hewed, in protecting 
an infant, but by enrolling it in your fervice, now that 
b is of age, and come into the world. Therefore, be 
pleafed to accept of this as an acknowledgment of the 
favour you have {hewn me, and an earnefr, of the real fer- 
vice and gratitude of, 

S I R, 

Tour mqft obliged^ 
Humhk Servant, 


t 7 1 


To my dear Friend Mr. CONGREFE, on his Comedy, 
called, The Double Dealer. 

WELL then ; the promis'd hour is come at lad ; 
The prefent age of witobfcures the paft : 
Strong were o.ur fires, and as they fought they writ, 
Conqu'ring with force of arms, and dint of wit; 
Theirs was the giant race, before the flood; 
And thus, when Charles return'd, our empire ftood. 
Like Janus, he the ftubborn foil manur'd, 
With rules of hufbandry the ranknefs cur'd : 
Tam'dus to manners, when the ftage was rude, 
And boift'rous Englilh wit with art indu'd. 
Our age was cultivated thus at length ; 
But what we gain'd in lkill we loft in ftrength. 
Our builders were, with want of genius, curft; 
The fecond temple was not like the fit'lt : 
'Till you the bell Vitruvius come at length, 
Our beauties equal, but excel our ftrength. 
Firm Doric pillars found your folid bafe ; «* 
The fair Corinthian crowns the higher fpace; I 
Thus all below is ftrength, and all above is grace. J 
In eafy dialogue is Fletcher's praife : 
He mov'd the mind, but had no pow'r to raife. 
Great Johnfon did by ftrength of judgment pleafe : 
Yet doubling Fletcher's force, he wants his eafe. 
In difPrent talents both adorn'd their age; 
One for the ftudy, t'other for the ftage. 
But both to Congreve juftly ftiall fubmit, 
Onematch'd in judgment, both o'er-match'd in wit. 
In him all beauties of this age we fee, 
Etherege's courtfhip, Southeme's purity ; K 
The fatire, wit, and ftrength of manly Wycherley. j 
AH this in blooming youth you have achiev'd ; 
Nor are your foil'd cotemporaries griev'd ; 
So much the fweetnefs of your manners move, 
We cannotenvy you, becaufe we love. 
Fabius might joy withScipio, when he faw 
A beardlels Conful made againft the law, 
And join his futfrage to the votes of Rome; 
Though he with, Hannibal was overcome. 

4 Thus 

[ 8 ] 

Thus old Romano bow'd to Raphael's fame, 
And fcholar to the youth he taught, became. 

Oh, that your brows my laurel had fuftain'd, 
Well had I been depos'd, if you had reign'd! 
The father had descended tor the fon ; 
For only you are lineal to the throne. 
Thus when the State one Edward did depofe, 
A greater Edward in his room arofe. 
But now, not I, but poetry is curs'd, 
For Tom the fecond reigns, like Tom the firft. 
But let them not miftake my patron's part, 
Nor call his charity their own defert. 
Yet this I prophefy ; thou (halt be feen 
(Tho' with feme (hort parenthefis between) 
' High on the throne of Wit ; and feated there,. 
Not mine (that's little) but thy laurel wear. 
Thy firft attempt an early promife made, 
That early promife this has more than paidy 
So bold, yet fo judicioufly you dare, 
That your leatt praife, is to be regular. 
Time, place, and action, may with pains be wrought, 
But genius mult be born, and never can be taught- 
This is your portion ; this your native ftore ; 
Heav'n, that but once was prodigal before, 
To Shakefpeare gave as much ; the could not give him 

Maintain your poft ; that's all the fame you need; 
For 'tis impofTibie you mould proceed. 
Already 1 am worn with cares and age, 
And juft abandoning th' ungrateful ftage;: 
Unprofitably kept at Heaven's expence, 
I live a rent-charge on his providence : 
But you, whom ev'ry mufe and grace adorn,. 
Wh®m I fore fee to better fortune born, 
Be kind to my remains ; and Oh, defend, 
Againft your judgment, your departed friend I 
Let not th' infulting foe my fame purfue ; 
Butfliade rhoie laurels which defcend to you : 
And take for tribute what thefe lines expreis : 
You. merit more r nor could my love do lefs. 



[ 9 J 


J\jJOORS have this way (as Jiory tells) to know 

Whether their brats are truly got , or no j 
Into the fca the new-born babe is thrown, 
There, as infiintt directs, to fwim or drown, 
A barbarous device, to try iffpoufe 
Has kept religioufly her nuptial vows* 

Such are the trials poets make o f plays ; 
Only they trufi to ??iore inconfiant fcas ; 
So does our author, this his child commit 
To the tempejluous mercy of the pit , 
To know if it be truly born of Wit. 

Critics, avaunt ; for you are fijh of prey, 
And feed, like fharks, upon an infant play. 
Be ev'ry monjter of the deep away ; 
Let's have fair trial, and a clear fea. 

Let Nature work, and do not damn too foon t 
For life will firuggle long, ere it fink down : 
And will at leajl rife thrice before it drown* 
Let us confider, had it been our fate, 
Thus hardly to be prov 'd 'legitimate ! 
I wilt not fay we'd all in danger been, 
JVere each to fuffcr for his mother's fin ; 
But by my froth 1 cannot avoid thinking, 
How nearly fome good men might have 'fcap'd finking. 
But, Heaven be prai'd, this cuflom is confin'd 
Alone to th* offspring of the mufes hind: 
Our Chriftian cuckolds are more bent to pity ; 
I know not one Moor-hujband in the city. 
Fth' good man's arms the chopping bafiard thrives^ 
For he thinks all his own that is his wives* 

Whatever fate is for this play defign'd, 
The poet's fur e he firnll fome comfort find : 
For if his mufe has played himfalfe, the worfil 
That can befal him, is, to be divorced ; 
You hujbands judge, if that be to be curs' d. 


M E N. 


Ma/kzvell, a villain ; pretended friend 

to Mellefont, gallant to Lady Touch' 

wood, and in love with Cynthia Mr. Sheridan- 
Lord Touchwood, uncle to Mellefont Mr. Clarke. 
Mellefont, promifed to, and in love 

with Cynthia Mr. Wroughton* 

Carelcfs, his friend Mr. Lewis. 

Lord Froth, a folemn coxcomb Mr. Booth. 

Brijk Mr. Woodward. 

Sir Paul Pfyant, an uxorious, foolilh, 

old Knight ; brother to Lady Touch- 

wood, and father to Cynthia Mr. Macklin* 


Lady Touchwood, in love with Mellefont Mrs. Jackfoiu 

Cynthia, daughter to Sir Paul by a for- 
mer wife, promifed to Mellefont Mifs Dayes. 

Lady Froth, a great coquet ; preten- 
der to poetry, wit, and learning Mrs. Mattocks. 

Lady Plyant, infolent to her hufband, 

and eafy to any pretender Mifs Macklin* 

Chaplain, Boy, Foct?ncn, and Attendants, 

The SCENE, a Gallery in Lord Touchwood** Houfe, 

with Chambers adjoining. 


[ «• ] 



The lines d'ifiinguijbed ly inverted comas, « thus* -art omitted in tit 


SCENE. A Gallery in Lord Touch wood'* Houfe f 

with Chambers adjoining, 

Enter Carelefs, crojjing the Jlage, ivith his bat, gloves, and 
fivord in his bands, as jujt rifen from table ; Mellefont 
following him. 


NED, Ned, whither fo fart ! What, turn'd flin- 
cher ! Why, you wo'not leave us ? 
Care. Where are the women ? I'm weary of guzzling, 
and begin to think them the better company. 

Mel. Then thy realbn daggers, and thou'rt almoft 

Care, No, faith, but your fools grow noify ; and if a 
wan mud endure the noife of words without fenfe, I think 
the women have more mufical voices, and become non- 
fen fe better. 

Mel. Why, they are at the end of the gallery, retired 
to their tea and fcandal, according to their ancient cu- 

ftom after dinner. But I made a pretence to follow 

you, becaufe I had fomething to fay to you in private-, 
and I am not like to have many opportunities this eve- 

Care. And here's this coxcomb rnoft critically come to 
interrupt you. 



Enter Briflc. 

Brijh. Boys, boys, lads, where are you ? What, do 
you give ground ? Mortgage for a bottle, ha ? Carelefs, 
this is your trick ; you are always fpoiling company by 
leaving it. 

Care, And thou art always fpoiling company by co- 
ming into it. 

Brisk. Pooh, ha, ha, ha, I know you envy me. Spite, 

proud fpite, by the gods ! and burning envy. -I'll be 

judged by Mellefont here, who gives and takes raillery 
better, you or I. Pfliaw, man, when I fay you fpoil 
company by leaving it, I mean you leave nobody for the 
company to laugh at. I think there I was with you, ha ! 

Mel, O' my word, Brilk, that was a home thruft 

you have filenced him. 

Brisk, Oh, my dear Mellefont, let me perifh if thou 
art not the foul of converfation, the very e fie nee of wir, 

and fpirit of wine The deuce take me, if there were 

three good things faid, or one underftood, lince thy am- 
putation from the body of our fociety He, I think 

that's pretty and metaphorical enough : 'Egad, I could 
not have faid it out of thy company — Carelefs, ha ! 

Care. Hum, what is it ? 

Bri:k, O, moncoeur! What is't ! Nay, gad I'll pu- 
nifh you for want of apprehenfion :— the deuce take me 
if I tell you. 

Mel, No, no, hang him, he has no tafte — But, dear 
Brifk, excufe me, I have a little bufmefs. 

Care, IVythee, get thee gone : thou feeft we are fe« 

Mel, We'll come immediately if you'll but go in, 
and keep up good humour and fenfe in the company 
Pr'ythee do they'll fall afleep elfe. 

Brisk. 'Egad fo they will Well I will, I will ; gad 

you (hall command me from the zenith to the nadir. 

But the deuce take me if I fay a good thing 'till you 
come. — But pr'ythee, dear rogue, make haite, pr'ythee 
make hafte, I (hall burfl elfe. —And yonder your uncle, 
my Lord Touchwood, fwears he'll di {inherit you, and Sir 
Paul Plyant threatens to difclaim you for a fon-in-law, 
and my Lord Froth won't dance at your wedding to-mor- 
row i 


fmv ; nor the deuce take me, I won't write your epithala- 
mi urn and fee what a condition you're like to be 

brought to. 

McL Well, I'll fpeak but three words, and follow 

Brijk. Enough, enough. -Carelefs, bring your appre- 
henfion along with you. [Exit, 
• Care. Pert coxcomb. 

McL Faith, 'tis a good-natured coxcomb, and has ve- 
ry entertaining follies- You muft be more humane 

to him ; at this juncture it will do me fervice. I'll tell 
you, I would have mirth continued this day at any rate ; 
tho' patience purchafe folly, and attention be paid with 
noife. There are times when fenfe may be unfeafona- 
ble, as well as truth. Pr'ythee do thou wear none to- 
day ; but allow Brilk to have wit, that thou mayft feem a 

Care, Why, how now, why this extravagant propos- 
ition ? 

Mel, O, I would have no room for ferious defign, for 
I am jealous of a plot. I would have noife and imperti- 
nence keep my Lady Touchwood's head from w®rking 1 
for Hell is not more bufy than her brain, nor contains 
more devils than that imaginations. 

Care, I thought your fear of her had been over—— Is 
not to-morrow appointed for your marriage with Cyn- 
thia, and her father Sir Paul Plyant come to fettle the 
writings this day, on purpofe ? 

McL True; but you (hall judge whether I have not 
reafon to be alarmed. None befides you and Mafkwell 
are acquainted with the (beret of my aunt Touchwood's 
violent paffion for me. Since my firft refufal of her ad- 
<lreffes, (he has endeavoured to dot me all ill offices with 
my uncle ; yet has managed them with that fubtilty, 
that to him they have borne the face of ktndnefs, while 
Tier malice, like a dark lanthorn, only fhone upon me, 
where it was directed. Still it gave me lefs perplexity to 
prevent the fuccefs of her difpleafure, than to avoid the 
importunities of her love ; and of two evils, 1 thought 
myfelf favoured in her averfion : but whether urged by 
her defpair, and the fhort -profpecr. of time Hie law, to 
accomplim her deiigns ; whether the hopes of revenue, 
or of her love, terminated in the view of this my roar- 
B riage 


nage with Cynthia, I know not; but this morning (he 
tfurprized me in my bed. 

Care. Was there ever fuch a fury ! 'Tis well Nature 
itias not put it into her fex's power to ravifli. — Well, bids 
us ! proceed. What followed ? 

Mel. What at firlt amazed me ; for I looked to have 
Teen her in all the tranfports of a ilighted and revengeful 
Avomart : but when I expected thunder from her voice, 
and lightning in her eyes, I favv her melted into tears., 
and huftied into a figh. It was long before either of us 
ipoke, paflion had tied her tongue, and amazement mine. 
-—In fliort, the confequence was thus : (he omitted no- 
thing that the moft violent love could urge, or tender 
words exprefs ; which when ihe faw had no effect, but 
Hill I pleaded honour and nearnefs of blood to my uncle, 
then came the ltorm I feared at firit ; for Parting from 
my bed-fide like a fury, flie flew to my fword, and with 
much ado I prevented her doing me or herfelf a mifchief : 
having di farmed her, in a guft of paffion flie left me, and 
in a refolution, confirmed by a thoufand curfes, not to 
clofe her eyes, "'till they had feen my ruin. 

Care. Exquifite woman ! But what the devil does flie 
think thou haft no more fenfe than to get an heir upon 
her body to difmherit thyfelf,: for, as I take it, this let- 
tlement upon you, is with a provifo that your uncle have 
no children. 

Mel. It is fo. Well., the fervice you are to do me 
will be a pleafure to yourfdf ; I rnuft get you to engage 
my Lady Plyant all this evening, that my pious aunt 
may not work her to her imereit. And if you chance to 
fecure her to yourfelf, ) r ou may incline her to mine. 
She is handfome, and knows it , is very filly, and thinks 
ihe has fenfe, and has an old fond hulband. 

Care. I confefs a very fair foundation for a lover to 
build upon. 

Mel. For my Lord Froth, he and his wife will be fuf- 
ficiently taken up with admiring one another, and Briik's 
galantry, as they ,call it. I'll obfervc my uncle myfelf ; 
and Jack Malkwell has promifed me to watch my aunt 
narrowly, and give me notice upon any fufpicion. As 
for Sir Paul, my wife father-in-law that is to be, n# 
dear Cynthia has fuch a mare in .his fatherly fondnefs, he 



.Would fcarce make hef a moment uneafy, to have her 
happy hereafter. 

Care, So, you have manried your works; but I wifh 
you may not have the weakeft guard where the enemy 
is ltrongefl. 

Mel, Malkwell, you mean; pr'y thee why fliould you' 
fufpeCt him ? 

Care, Faith, I cannot help it ; you know I never liked 
him ; I am a little fuperftitious in phyiiognomy. 
- Mel. He has obligations of'gratitude to bind him to* 
me ; his dependence upon my uncle is through my 

Care.- Upon your aunt, you mean. 
Mel. My aunt ! 

Care. I- am miltaken if triers be nor a familiarity be- 
tween them you do not fufpeet, notwithltanding her paf- 
ilon for you. 

Mel. Pooh, pooh, nothing in the world but his de- 
fign to do me fervice; and he endeavours to be well in 
herefteem, that he may be able to effect it. 

Care, Well, I mail be glad to be miltaken : but your 
aunt's averfion in her revenge cannot be any way fo ef- 
fectually (hewn, as in bringing forth a child to dilinherk 
you. She is handfome and cunning, and naturally wan- 
ton. Malkvvell is fiefh and blood at beiK and opportu- 
nities between them are frequent. His affection to you, 
you have confefled, is grounded upon his intereft, that 
you have tranfplanteth; and Itiould it take root in my la- 
dy, I do not fee what you can expect from the fruit. 

Mel. I conrefs the confequence is vilible, were your 
fufpicions juft. — But fee, the company is broke up, let 
us meet them. * 
Enter Lord Touchwood, Lord Froth, Sir Paul Ply ant, 
and Brilk. 

Ld. T. Out upon't, nephew leave your father-in- 
law, and me, to maintain our ground againft young 

Mel. I beg your Lordfliip's pardom — we were juft re- 
turning. — — -1— • 

Sir P. Were you, fon ? Gadsbud, much better as it 

is — Good, flrange ! I fwear I'm almoft tipfy t'other 

bottle would have been too powerful for me — as fure as 
B 2 can 


can be it would. — We wanted your company, but M>.- 
Brifk — where is he ? I fwear and vow he's a moft face- 
tious perfon — and the bell company. And my Lord 

.Froth, your Lordfhip is fo merry a man, he, he, he. 

Ld. F. O foy, Sir Paul, what do you mean ? Merry ? 
O barbarous ! I'd as lieve you called me fool. 

Sir P. Nay, I protefl and vow now, 'tis true; whea 
Mr. Brilk jokes, your Lordfhip's laugh does fo become 
you, he, he r he. 

Ld. F. Ridiculous ! Sir Paul, you're ftrangely mifta- 
ken ; I find Champagne is powerful. I affure you, Sir 
Paul, I laugh at nobody*s jeft but my own, or a lady's-j 
.1 aiTure you, Sir Paul. 

Brisk. How ! how, my Lord ! What, affront my 
wit ! Let me perifh, do I never fay any thing worthy to 
be laughed at ? 

Ld. F. O foy, don't mifapprehend me ; 1 don't fay 
■fo, for I often fmile at your conceptions. But there \% 
nothing more unbecoming a man of quality, than to 
laugh ; 'tis fuch a vulgar expreffion ot the palfion ! every 
body can laugh. Then efpecially to laugh at the jeft of 
an inferior perfon, or when any body elfe of the farse 
quality does not laugh with one. Ridiculous I to be 
pleafed with what pleafes the croud ! Now, when I 
lau^h, I always laugh alone. 

Brisk. I fuppofe that's becaufe you laugh at your owa 
jetls, 'egad, ha, ha, ha. 

Ld. F. He, he, I fwear tho% your raillery provoke* 
me to a fmile. 

Brisk. Ay, my Lord, it's a fign I hit you in the 
teeth, if you fhew 'em. 

Ld. F, He, he, he, I fwear that's fo very pretty, I 
can't forbear. 

* Care. I find a quibble bears more fway in your Lord- 
* (hip's face than a jell.' 

Ld. T. Sir Paul, if you pleafe we'll retire to the ladies, 
and drink a difh of tea to fetile our heads. 

Sir P. With all my heart.— Mr. Brilk, you'll come to 

ns or call me when you joke — I'll be ready to laugh 

incontinently. [Exeunt Ld. Touch. and.Sir Paul. 

Me/. Bur does your Lordfhip never fee comedies ? 

Ld, F, O yes, fometimes, but I never laugh. 



Mel No? 

Ld. F. Oh, no — never laugh indeed, Sir. 

Care. No ! Why, what d'ye go there for ? 

Ld. F. To diftinguifh myielf from the commonalty., 
End mortify the poets ; — the fellows grow fo conceited 
when any of their foolifh wit prevails upon the fide- 

boxes. — I fwear he, he, he, I have often conftrained 

my inclinations to laugh he, he, he, to avoid giving 

them encouragement. 

Mel. You are cruel to yourfelf, my Lord, as well a* 
malicious to them. 

Ld. F. I confefs I did myfelf fome violence at firft, 
but now I think I have conquered it. 

Brisk. Let me perifh, my Lord, but there is fome- 
thing very particular in the humour ; 'tis true, it makes 
againft wit, and I'm forry for fome friends of mine that 
write, but 'egad, I love to be malicious. — Nay, deuce 

-take me, there's wit in't too and wit muft be foiled 

by wit ; cut a diamond with a diamond, no other way, 

Ld. F. Oh, I thought you would not be long before 
you found out the wit. 

Care. Wit ! In what ? Where the Devil's the wit in 
not laughing when a man has a mindto't? 

Brisk. O lord, why, can't you find it out ? Why, 

there 'tis, in the not laughing Don't you apprehend 

me ? My Lord, Carelefs is a very honeft fellow, but 

Hark ye — you underftand me, fomewhat heavy, a little 
fhallow, orfo. — Why, I'll tell you now, fuppofe now you 

come up to me Nay, pr'ythee Carelefs be inftrudred* 

Suppofe, as I was faying, you come up to me holding 

your fides, and laughing, as if you would Well — I 

look grave, and aflc the caufe of this immoderate mirth — 

You laugh on dill, and are not able to tell me Still I 

look grave, not fo much as fmile. i 

Care. Smile, no, what the Devil fliould you fmile at ? 
when you fuppofe I can't tell you ? 

Brisk. Pfliaw, plhaw, pr'ythee don't interrupt me. — 
But I tell you, you ihall tell me — at laft — But it mall be 
a great while firfL 

Care. Well ; but pr'ythee don't let it be a great while, 
becaufe I long to have it over, 

B 3 Brfi. 


Brisk. Well then, you tell me fome good jeft, or very 
witty thing, laughing all the while as if you were ready 

to die and I hear it, and look thus.— Would not 

you be difappointed ? 

Care. No : for if it were a witty thing, I fhould not 
expect you to underitand it. 

Ld. F. O foy, Mr. Carelefs, all the world allows Mr. 
Brilk to have wit ; my wife fays he has a great deal. I 
hope you think her a judge. 

Brisk. Pooh, my Lord, his voice goes for nothing.— 
I can't tell how to make him apprehend. — Take it t'other 
way. Suppofe I fay a witty thing to you ? 

Care, Then I mall be difappointed indeed. 

Mel. Let him alone, Brilk, he is obftinately bent not 
4o be inftructed. 

Brisk. I'm forry for him, the deuce take me. 

Mel. Shall we go to the ladies, my Lord ? 

Ld. F. With all my heart j methinks we are a fc*- 

lkude without them. 

Mel. Or, what fay you to another bottle of Cham- 
pagne ? 

Ld. F. O, for the univerfe, not a drop more, I be~ 
feech you. Oh, intemperate ! I have a flufliing in my 
face already. [Takes out a pocket glafs, and looks in it. 

Brisk. Let me fee, let me fee, my Lord, I broke my 
glafs that was in the lid of my fnuff-box. Hum ! Deuce 
take me, I have encouraged a pimple here too. 

[Takes the glafs, and looks* 

Ld. F, Then you mufl mortify him with a patch ; my 
irife fhall fupply you. Come,, gentlemen, aJlons, here 
h company coming. [Exeunt, 
Enter Lady Touchwood and Ma Ik well. 

L. T, I'll hear no more — — Y'are falfe and ungrate- 
ful ; come, I know you falfe. 

Mask. I have been frail I confefs, Madam, for your 
Lady (hip's fervice. 

L. T, That I fiiould trufl a man whom I had known 
betray his friend 1 

Mask What friend have I betrayed ; Or to whom ? 

L.T. Your fond friend Mellefont, and to me— — 
Can you deny it ? 

Mad* I do not, 


L. T. Have ypu not wronged my Lord, who has 
been a father to you in your wants, and given you be- 
ing ? Have you not wronged him in the higheft manner, 
in his bed ? 

Mask. With your Ladyfttip's help, and for your fer- 
vice, as I told you before. 1 cannot deny that neither. 
Any thing more, Madam ? 

jL. T. More ! audacious villain* Oh, what's more is 
moft my fhame Have you not diflionoured me ? 

Mask. No, that I deny ; for I never told- in all my 
life : fo that accufation's anfwered. On to the next. 

L. T. Death, do you dally with my paftion ? Info* 

lent devil ! But have a care provoke me not ; for, 

by the eternal fire, you fhall not efcape my vengeance.— 
Calm villain ! how unconcerned he ftands, confeffing 
treachery and ingratitude ! Is there a vice more black! 

Oh, I have excufes, thoufands, for my faults ; fire 
in my temper, pailions in my foul,, apt to every provo- 
cation ; opprelfed at once with love and with defpair : 
butafedate, a thinking villain, whofe black blood runs 
temperately bad, what excufe can clear ? 

Mask. Will you be in temper, Madam ? I would not 
talk not to be heard. I have been [She walks about difo*- 
dered,~] a very great rogue for your fake, and you reproach, 
me with it ; I am ready to be a rogue ftill, to do you fer- 
vice ; and you are flinging confeience and honour in my 
face, to rebate my inclinations. How am I to behave 
myfelf? You know I am your creature, my life and for- 
tune in your power ; to difoblige you brings me certain; 
ruin. Allow it, I would betray you, I would not be a 
traitor to myfelf : I do not pretend to honefty, becaufe 
you know I am a rafcal : but I would convince you from 
the neceffity of my being firm to you . 

L. T. Necelfity, impudence ! Can no gratitude in- 
cline you, no obligations touch you ? 4 Have not my* 
4 fortune and my perfon been fubjecfed to your plea- 
* fure ?■' Were you not in the nature of a fervant, and 
have not I in efteel made you lord of all, of me, and of 
my Lord ? Where is that humble love, the languilhing, 
that adoration, which once was paid me, and everlatiing- 
ly engaged ? 


Mask, Fixed, rooted in my heart, whence nothing 
ean remove them, yet you 
L. T, Yet, what yet ? 

Mask. Nay, mifccnceive me not, Madam, when I 
fay 1 have had a generous and a faithful paffion, which 
you had never favoured but thro' revenge and policy. 

L. T, Ha ! 

Mask. Look you, Madam, we are alone, — Pray con- 
tain yourfelf, and hear me. You know you loved your 
nephew when I firit fighed for you ; I quickly found it ; 
an argument that I loved : for with that art you veiled 
your paffion, 'twas imperceptible to all but jealous eyes.. 
This difcovery made me bold r I confefs it ; for by it I 
thought you in my power. Your nephew's fcorn of you 
added to my hopes ; I watched the occafion, and took 
you, juft repulfed by him, warm at once with love and 
indignation ; your difpofition, my arguments,, and hap- 
py opportunity, accomplifhed my defign ; 1 preft the 
yielding minute, and was bleit. How I have loved you 
fince, words have not fliewn, then how Ihould word* 
txprefs ? 

L. T. Well, mollifying devil ! And have I noE 
met your love with forward fire £ 

Mask, Your zeal I grant was ardent, but mifplaced ; 
there was revenge in view ; that woman's idol had de- 
filed the temple of the god, and love was made a mock- 

worfhip. A fon and heir would have edged young 

Melleront upon the brink of ruin, and left him none but 
you to catch at for prevention. 

L, 2> Again, provoke me ! Do you wind me like a 
larum, only to* route my ililled foul for your diverlion ? 
Con fu lion I 

Mask. Nay, Madam,. I am gone, if you relapfe ■ ■■■ 
What needs this ? I fay nothing but what you yourfelf, 
in open hours of love, have told me. Why fhould you 
deny it ? Nay, how can you ? Is not all this prefent heat 
owing to the fame fire ? Do you not love him itiil ? How 
have I this day offended you, but in not breaking off bis 
match with Cynthia £ which, ere to-morrow, (hall be 
done— — t— had you but patience. 

L. T : , How, what faid you, Malkwell,— 'Another 
caprice to unwind my temper I 



Mask. By Heav'n, no ; I any your (lave, the flave of 
til your pleafures ; and will not reft 'till I have given you 
peace, would you fuffer me. 

L. T. Oh, Mafkwell, in Vain do I difguife me from 
thee, thou knoweft me, kmoweit the very inmoft wind- 
ings * and recedes* of my foul.- * Oh, Mellefont ! I 

* burn married to-morrow ! Defpair flrikes me ! Yet 
sny foul knows I hate him too : let him but once be mine, 

* and next immediate ruin feizehim.' 

Mask. Compole yourfelf, you fliall poflefs and ruin 
him too — Will that pleafe you ? 

L. T. How, how ? thou dear, thou precious villain, 
how ? 

Mask. You have already been, tampering with my La» 
dy Plyant. 

L» T. I have ; {he is ready for any impreifion I think 

Mask. She rauft be thoroughly perfuaded that Melle- 
font loves her. 

L. T. She is fo credulous that way naturally, and 
likes him fo well, that fhe will believe it fafterthan I can 
perfuade her. But I don't fee what you can propofe 
from fuch a trifling defign ; for her firft converting with 
.Mellefont will convince her of the contrary. 

Mask. I know it — I don't depend upon it. But it 

will prepare fomething elfe ; and gain us leifure to lay a 

ftronger plot. If I gain a little time, 1 Ihall not want 


One minute gives, invention to deftroy, 
What to rebuild, will a whole age employ. 


End of the First Act. 

■' i • 1,1,1 ■ ■ . ■ ..... , . „ 

Enter Lady Froth and Cynthia., 

INDEED, Madam!' Is it poflible your Ladyfrip Gould 
have been fo much in love ? 
L. F. I could not (leep ; I did not flcep one wink for 
three weeks together. 


Cyn. Prodigious ! I wcnder'want of deep, and fo much 1 
love, and fo much wit as your Ladyihip has, did not turn 
your brain.- 

L.F. O rriy dear Cynthia, you mult not rany.your 
friend— but really, as you fay, i wonder too— but then 
I had a way. For between you and I, 1 had vvhimhes- 
and vapours, but I gave them vent. 

Cyn. How, pray Madam ? 

L. F. O, I writ, writ abundantly -Do you ne- 
ver write ? 

Cyn. Write, what > 

L. F Songs, elegies, fatires, encomiums, panegyrics,- 
lampoons, plays, or heroic poems. 

Cyn. Olord, not I, Madam; I am content to be a- 
courteous reader. ; - 

L.F. O inconfinent ! in love, and not write ! it my 
Lord and I had been both of your temper, we^ had ne- 
ver come together G blefs me ! what a lad thing 

would that have been, if my Lord and £ fhould never 
have met ! 

Cyn.- Then neither my Lord nor you would ever have 
met with your match, on my confeience. 

L.F. O'my conference no more we ihould ; thou 

fcy'ft ^ght -for fure my Lord Froth is as fine a 

.gentleman, and as much a man of quality! Ah! no- 
thing at all of the common air 1 think I may iay he 

wants nothing but a blue ribband and a {tar, to ma^e 
him mine the very phofphorus of our hermfpherc. Do you 
underftand thofe two hard words ? It you don t, 1 11 ex- 

plain them to you. . 

Cyn. Yes, yes, Madam, I am not fo ignorant.- 
At leaf* I won't own it, to be troubled with your mftruc 

1 L F Nay, I beer your pardon ; but being derived 
from the Greek, I thought you might have efcaped the 

etymology. But I am the more amazed, to find you a 

woman of letters, and not write ! Blefs me! how can 
Mellefont believe you love him ? 

■ Cyn. Why faith, Madam, he that won t take my j 
word, (hall never have it under my hand. 

L. F. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, but me- 
thinks he wants a manner. ^ * 


tCyn. A manner ! What's that, Madam ? 
L. F. Some diitinguifliing quality, as for example, the 
3d air or krillant of Mr. Bri(k ; the folemnity, yet 
complaifance of my Lord, orfomething of his own that 
Ihould look a little je ne fcai quoi-± he is too much a 
med'ocrity in my mind. 

Cyn. He does not indeed affect either pertnefs or for- 
mality, for which I like him Here he comes. 

Enter -Lord Froth, Mellefont, and Briik. 
Impertinent creature ! I .could almoft be angry with her 
now. S^Afide. 

L, F. My Lord, I have been telling Cynthia how 
much I have been in love with you ; I fwear I have ; 
I'm not afliamed to own it now ; Ah ! it makes my 
heart leap, I vow I figh when I think on't : — My dear 
Lord ! ha, ha, ha, do you remember, my Lord? 

[Squeezes him by the hand, looks kindly an him, Jighs 9 
and then laughs out, 
Ld. F, Pleafant creature ! Perfectly well, Ah ! that 

look ! Ay, there it is ; who could rehlt ! 'Twas fo' 

my heart was made a captive at fir ft, and ever fince it 
has been in love with happy flavery. 

L, F. O that tongue, that dear deceitful tongue ! that 
charming ibftnefs in your mien and your expreffion, and 
then your bow ! Good, my Lord, bow as you did when 
I gave you my picture ; here, fuppofe this my picture — 
' [Gives hi m a pocket glafs.] Pray mind, my Lord; ah ! 
1 he bows charmingly. Nay, my Lord, you fhan't kifs it 
j fo much ; I fhall grow jealous., 1 vow now. 

[He bows prof trundly low, then kiJJeS the glafs , 
Ld, F. I faw myfelt there, and killed it for your fake. 
L. F. Ah ! gallantry to the Iaft degree — Mr. Brifk, 
u you are a judge j was ever any thing fo well bred as my 

;f Brisk, Never any thing but your Ladyfhip, let me 
1 perifh. 

fl * L. F. O prettily turned again ; let me die but you 

have a great deal of wit. ' Mr. Mellefont, don't you 

F think Mr. Brifk has a world of wit ? 

Mel, O yes, Madam. 
5* Brisk, O dear, Madam r— 

L. F, An infinite deal ! 

: Brisk. 


Brisk. Oh Heavens, Madam 
JL. F. More wit than any body_, 

Brisk. I am e.verlaftingly your humble fervant, dcu« 
fake me, Madam. 

L,d. F. Don't you think us a happy couple ? 

Cyn. I vow, my I ord, I think you the happieft cou- 
ple in the world ; * for you are not only happy in one 

* another and when you are together, but happy in 

* yourfelves, and by yourfelves.'' 

Ld. F. I hope Mellefont will. make a good hufband too,. 

Cyn. 'Tis my intereli to believe he will, my Lord, 

Ld. F, D'ye think he'll love you as well as I do my 
wife ? I -am afraid not. 

Cyn. 1 believe he'll love me better. 

Ld. F. Heav'ns ! that can never be ; tut why do you 
think fo ? 

Cyn. Becaufe he has not fo much reafon to be fond of 


Ld. F. O your humble fervant for that, dear Madam. 
Well, Mellefont, you'll be a happy creature. 

Mel. Ay, my Lord, I (hall have the lame reafon for 
my happinefs that your Lordmip has ; I lhall think my- 
feit happy. 

Ld. F. A\ that's all. 

Brisk. [To Lady Froth.] Your Ladyfhip is in the i 
right j but 'egad I'm wholly turned into fatire. I con- 

ieis I write but feldom, but when I do keen Iambics, 

'egad. But my Lord was telling me, your Ladyfhip 
has made an eiTay toward an heroic poem. 

L. F. Did my Lord tell you ? Yes, 2 vow, and the 
fubject is my Lord's love to me. A nd wJiat do you think 

I call it ? I dare ("wear you won't guefs Tbe-Sillabub^ 

ha, ha, ha. 

Brisk. Becaufe my Lord's title's Froth, ''egad ; ha, 
ha, ha, ha, .deuce take me, very a propas^ and furprizing, 

ha, ha, ha. 

L. F. He, ay, is not it ? And then I call my 

Lord Spumoia ; and myfelf, what do ye think I call my- 

Brisk. Laclilla, maybe 'Egad I cannot telL 

L. F. Biddy, that's all.; juibny own name. 

. Bn'3* 


Brisk. Biddy ! 'Egad very pretty Deuce take me 

if your Ladyfhip has not the art of f 11 prizing the moll na- 
turally in the world 1'U make me happy in 

communicating the poem. 

L. F. O, you mull be my confident, 1 mull alkyour 

Brisk. I'm your humble fervant, let me perifli " I 
prefumeyour 'Ladyfhip has -read Boffu ? 

L. F. O yes, and Rapine, and Dacier upon Ariftotle 

and Horace. My Lord, you muit not be jealous., I'm 

communicating all to Mr. Brilk. 

Ld. F. No, no, I'll allow Mr. Brilk ; have you rto- 
thing about you tofhew him, my dear ? 

L. F. Yes, I believe I have. Mr. Brifk, come 

will you go into the next room, and there I'll mew you 
what I have. [Exeunt L. Froth aWBrifk. 

Ld. F. I'll walk a turn in the garden, and come to 
you. [Exit Ld. Froth. 

Mel. You are thoughtful, Cynthia. 

■Cyn. I am thinking, tho' marriage makes man and 
wife one flefli, it leaves them Hill two fools ; and they 
become more confpicuous by fetting off one another. 

Mel. That's only when two fools meet, and their fol- 
lies are oppofed. 

Cyn. Nay, I have known two wits meet, and by the 
oppoiuion of their wit, render themfelves as ridiculous as 
tools. 5 Tis an odd game we are going to play at ; what 
think you of drawing ftakes, and giving over in time ? 

Mel. No, hang it, that's not endeavouring to win, be- 
caufe it is poffible we may lofe ; lince we have muffled 
and cut, let's e'en turn up trump now. 

Cyn. Then I find it is like cards, ir either of us have a 
good hand it is an accident of fortune. 

Mel. No, marriage is rather like a game at bowls : 
fortune indeed makes the match, and the two nearer!:, 
and fometimes the two fartheft are together, but the 
game depends entirely upon judgment. 

Cyn. Still it is a game, and coiuequently one of us inuft 
be a lofer. 

Mel. Not at all ; only a friendly trial of&ill, and the 

winnings to be laid out in an enfenaimenr. i What's 

* here,, the muiic ! Oh, my Lord has promifed the 

* C < com- 


* xompany a new long, we'll get them to give it us by 

* the way. [Mujtcians crojjiug thcjiage.] Pray let us have 

* the favour of you, to practife the fong before the com- I 

* pany hear it. r? 


c Cynthia frowns whene'er I woo her, 
t Yet {he's vex'd if I give over; 
' Much me fears I fhould undo her, 
6 But much more to lofe her lover : 
' Thus, in doubting, {he refufes ; 
4 And not winning, thus (lie lofes. 

4 Pr'ythee, Cynthia, look behind you, 
' Age and wrinkles will o'ertake you ; 

* Then too late deli re will find you, 

* When the power muft forfake you : 

* Think, O think o'th' fad condition, 

* To be pad, yet wall fruition.' 

MeU You fhall have rny thanks below. 

[To the mufic y tiny go ouU 
Enter Sir Paul Plyant and Latly Plyant. 
Sir P. Gads bud ! I am provoked into a fermentation, 
-as my Lady Froth fays ; was ever the like read of in 
ftofy ? 

Z>. P. Sir Paul, have patience ; let me alone to rattle 
him up. 

Sir P. Pray your Ladyfhip give me leave to be angry 
I'll rattle him up, I warrant you, Fll rlrk him with 

a certiorari. 

L. P. You firk him ! I'll firk him myfelf. Pray, Sir 
Paul, hold you contented. 

* Cyn. Blefs me, what makes my father in fuch a paf- 
* fion ! 1 never faw him thus heroic' 

Sir, P. Hold you rfelf contented, my Lady Plyant, — 
I find pafnon coming upon me by inflation, and I cannot 
fubmitas formerly, therefore give way. 

L. P. How now ! will you be pleafed to retire, and — 

Sir P. No marry will I not be pleafed ; I am pleafed 
to be angry, that's my pleafure at this time. 

Mel, What can this mean! 

£ L. P. * 


Z. P. Gads my life, the man's diitracted ; why how 
now, who are you ? What am I ? Slidikins, can't 1 go- 
vern you ? What did I marry you for f Am I not to be 
abfolute and iincontroulable ? Is it fit a woman of my 
fpirit and conduit fliouid be contradicted in a matter o£ 
this concern ! 

Sir P. It concerns me, and only me : Belides, X- 

am not to be governed at all times. When I am in tran- 
quility my Lady Plyant mail command Sir Paul ; but 
when lain provoked to fury, I cannot incorporate with* 
patience and reafon, — as foon may tigers match with ti- 
gers, lambs with lambs r and every creature couple with 
its fee, as the poet fays. 

L. P. He's hot-headed Itili ! 'tis in vain to talk to 
you ;, but remember I hav;e a curtain -lecture for you, 
you difobedient, headilrong brute. 

Sir P. No, 'tis becaufe I won't be headftrong, be- 
caufe I won't be a brute, and have my head fortified^ 
that I am thus exafperated. — But I will protect- my ho- 
nour, and yonder is the violator of my fame. 

L. P. 'Tis my honour that is concerned, and the vio- 
lation was intended to me. Your honour ! you have- 
none but what is in my keeping, and I can difpofe of it 
when I pleafe — therefore don't provoke me. 

Sir P. Hum, gads-bud fhe fays true Well, my 

Lady, march on, I will frght under you then ; I am* 
convinced as far as paffion will permit- 

[Lady PI. audSir Paul come up to Mellefont* 

jL. P Inhuman and treacherous 

Sir P. Thou ferpent, and firlt tempter of woman- 

Cyn. Blefs me, Sir! Madam, what mean you? 

Sir P. Thy, Thy, come aw,ay Thy, touch him not % 
come hither, girl, go not near him, there is- nothing but 
deceit about him ; fnakes are in his peruke, and the cro- 
codile of Nilus is in his belly, he will eat thee up alive. 

L, P. Dilhonourable, impudent creature ! 

Mel. For Heaven's fake, Madam, to whom, do yoar 
direct this language ? 

L. P. Have I behaved myfelf with all the decorum 
and nicety, befitting the perfon of Sir Paul's wife ? Have 
I preferved my honour as it were in a lnovv-houfe for 
C 2 the lb 


thefe three years paft ? Have I been white and unfullied 
even by Sir Paul himfelf ? 

St? P. Nay, (he has been an invincible wife, even to 
me, that's the truth on't. 

L. 1\ Have I, I fay, preferved myfelf like a fair 
fhe.t of paper for you to make a blot upon i 

Sir P. And me mall make a fimile with any woman in 

Mel. I am fo amazed, I know not what to fay. 

Sir P. Do you think my daughter, this pretty crea- 
ture,- gads-bud fhe's a wife for a cherubin ! Do you 
think her fit for nothing but to be a flaiking horfe, to 
ftand before you while you take aim at my wife ? Gads- 
bud I was never angry before in my life, and I'll ne- 
ver be appeafed again. 

Mel. Hell and damnation ! this is my aunt ; fuch 
nialice can be engendered no where elfe. \_dfide* 

L. P..SirPaul, take Cynthia from his fight ; leave me 
to nrikehim with the remorfeofhis intended crime. 

Cyn. Pray Sir, ftay, hear him, I dare affirm he's in- 

Sir P. Innocent! Why, hark'ee, come hither, Thy, 
hark'ee, I had it from his aunt, my filler Touchwood — 
Gads-bud, he does not care a farthing for any thing of 
thee, but thy portion ; why, he's in love with my wife ; 
he would have tantalized thee, and made a cuckold of 
thy poor father, — and that would certainly have broke 
my heart — I am fure if ever I mould have horns, they 
would kill me ; they would never come kindly, I Ihould 
die of them, like a child that was cutting his teeth 
I Ihould indeed, Thy therefore come away ; but Pro- 
vidence has prevented all, therefore come away when I 
bid you. 

Cyn. I mud obey. [Exeunt Sir Paul and Cynthia. 

L.P. Oh, fuch a thing! the impiety of it itartles 
me — to wrong fo good, fo fair a creature, and one that 
loves you tenderly — 'Tis a barbarity of barbarities, and 
nothing could be guilty of it———— 

Ml. But the greateft villain imagination can form, I 
grant it ; and next to the villainy of fuch a fact, is the 
villainy of afperfing me with the guilt. How? Which 
way was I to wrong her ? For yet I underfcand you not. 


L. P. Why, gads my life, coufin Mellefont, yoa 
cannot be fo peremptory as to deny it, when I tax yoir 
with it to your face ; for,, now Sir Paul is gone, you are* 
conim nobus, 

Mel. By Heaven I love her more than life, or 

L. P. Fiddle, faddle, don't tell of this and that, ancf 
every thing in the world, but give me mathemacular de~ 
monftration, anfwer me directly >But I have not pa- 
tience Oh ! the impiety of it, as I was faying, an<f 

the unparalleled wickednefs ! O merciful father ! How 
could you think to reverfe nature fo,_ to make the daugh- 
ter the means of procuring the mother? 

Mel. The daughter to procure the mother ! 

L. P. Ay, for tho' I am not Cynthia's own mother, t 
am her father's wife, and that's near enough to make it 

Mel. Inceft ! O my precious aunt, and the devil in? 
conjunction. ' [Afide* 

L.P. O reflect upon the horror of that, and then the 
guilt of deceiving every body ; marrying the daughter 
only to make a cuckold of the father ; and, then feducing- 
me, debauching my purity, and perverting me from the 
road of virtue, in which I have trod thus long, and ne^ 
xcv made one trip, not one faux pas ; O-, consider it, 
what would you have to anfwer for, if you mould pro- 
voke me to frailty } Alas ! humanity is feeble, Heaven, 
knows ! very teeble, and unable to fupport itfelf. 

Mel. Where am I ? Is it day ? and am I awake r Ma- 

. L.P. And nobody knows how circumfhmces majr 
happen together; to my thinking, now I could re- 
fill the ftronvelt temptation but yet I know, 'tis im~ 

poiTible for me to know whether I could or not y there's 
bo certainty in the thing3 of this life. 

Mcl. Madam, pray give me leave to a/k you one ques- 

L. P. O lord, alk me t-hequeftion ! Til fwear I'll re- 
fufe it ; I fwear I'll deny it — therefore don'c alkme; nay 
you {han't afk me, I fwear I'll deny it. O- Gemini, you. 
have brought all the blood into my face ; I warrant 1 am. 
as red as a turky-cock ; O fye, coufin Mellefonr.. 

MeL Nav, Madam, hear me ; I mean-—- » 

C i £.. 


L. P. Hear you, no, no ; I'll deny you firft, and 
hear you afterwards. For one does not know how one's 

mind may change upon hearing, Hearing is one of 

the fenfes, and all the fenles are fallible; 1 won't truft 
my honour, I allure you ; my honour is infallible and 

Mel. For Heaven's fake, Madam. i 

L. P. O name it no more— — Blefs me, how can you 
talk of Heaven, and have fo much wickednefs in your 

heart? May be you don't think it a fin, they fay 

ibme of you gentlemen don't think it a fin may be it 

is no fin to them that don't think it fo ; indeed, if I did 

not think it a fin but Hill my honour, if it were no 

fin— but then to marry my daughter for the conveni- 

ency of frequent opportunities I'll never confent to 

that ; as fure as can be I'll break the march. 

MeL Death and amazement Madam, upon my 


L. P. Nay, nay, rife up ; come, you (hall fee my good- 
nature. I know love is powerful, and nobody can help 
his paflion : 'tis not your fault, nor I fwear it is not 

mine. How can I help it if I have charms ? And how 

can you help it if you are made a captive ? I fwear it is 

piry it mould be a fault but my honour well, but 

your honour too — but the fin ! — well, but the neceflity 

• — O lord, here's fomebody coming, I dare not iTay. 

Well,, you mult confider of your crime,, and ftrive a$ 
much as can be againft it — ftrive, be fure — but don't be 

melancholic, don't defpair but never think that I'll 

grant you any thing ; O lord, no ; — but be fure you lay 
aiide all thoughts of the marriage ; for tho' I know you 
don't love Cynthia, only as a blind for your paflion t©- 
me, yet it will make me jealous — O lord, what did I fay * 
Jealous ! no, no, I can't be jealous, for I mutt not love 
you — therefore don't hope — but don't defpair neither — 
O, they're coming, I muft fly, [Exit* 

Mel. [after a pavfe.] So then— fpite of my care and 
forefight I am caught, caught in my fecurity. — Yet this 
was but a {hallow artifice, 6 unworthy of my Machia- 
4 velian aunt.' There muft be more behind, this is but 
the flrft flafh, the priming of her engine ; deftructioij. 
follows hard, if not moft prefently prevented. 



Enter Ma fk well. 
Malkwell, welcome, thy prefence is a view of land, ap- 
pearing to my "ihipwrecked hopes ; the witch has raifed 
the Irorm, and her minifters have done their work ; you 
fee the vefTels are parted. 

Mask. I know it ; T met Sir Paul towing away Cyn- 
thia. Come, trouble not your head, I'll join you toge- 
gether ere to-morrow morning, or drown between you in 
the attempt. 

Mel. There's comfort in a hand ftretched out to one 
that's linking, though never fo far off. 

Mask, No finking, nor no danger Come, cheer 

up ; why you don't know that while I plead for you, 

your aunt has given me a retaining fee ; nay, 1 am 

your greateft enemy, and (lie does but journey-work un- 
der me, 

Mel. Ha ! how's this ? 

Mask. What do ye think of my being employed in the 
execution of all her plots t Ha, ha, ha, by Heaven it 
is true ; I have undertaken to break the match, I have 
undertaken to make your uncle difinherit you, to get you 

turned out of doors, and to ha, ha, ha, I can't tell 

you for laughing Oh, fhe has opened her heart to 

me- 1 am to turn you a grazing, and to — ha, ha, ha, 

marry Cynthia myfelf ; there's a plot for you. 

Mel, Ha ! O fee, I fee my riling fun ! light breaks 

thro' clouds upon me, and I lhall live in day O my 

Mafkwell ! how (hall I thank or praife thee ; thou hair, 
outwitted woman. — But tell me, how couldft thou thus 
get into her confidence ? Ha ! how ? But was it her con* 
trivance to perfuade my Lady Plyant into this extrava- 
gant belief ? 

Mask. It was, and to tell you the truth I encouraged 
it for your diverfion ; tho' it make you a little uneafy for 
the prefent, yet the reflexion of it muft needs be enter- 
taining — I warrant Ihe was very violent atfirft. 

Me). Ha, ha, ha, ay, a very fury ; but I was mofl 
afraid of her violence at lafl — if you had not come as you 
did, I don't know what me might have attempted. 

Mask. Ha, ha, ha, I know her temper. — Well, you 
rauft know then, that all my contrivances were but bub- 
bles 5 'till at laft I pretended to have been long fecretly 



n love with Cynthia ; that did my bufinefs ; that con- 
vinced your aunt I might be trufted ; fince it was as 
much my intereft as hers to break the match : then, (lie 
ithought my jealoufy might qualify me to affift her in her 
revenge. And, in fhort, in that belief told me the fe- 
crets of her heart. At length, we made this agreement, 
if I accomplifti her defigns (as I told you before) me has 
engaged to put Cynthia with all her fortune into my 

Mel. She is moft gracious in her favour. Well, and 

dear Jack, how haft thou contrived ? 

Mask. I would not have you ftay to hear it now : for I 
don't know but fhe may come this way ; I am to meet 
her anon ; after that, I'll tell you the whole matter ; be 
here in this gallery an hour hence, by that time I ima- 
gine our consultation may be over. 

Mel. I will ; 'till then fuccefs attend thee. [Exit, 

Mask. Till then fnccefs will attend me; for when I 
meet you I meet the only obftacle to my fortune. Cyn- 
thia, let thy beauty gild my crimes ; and whatfoever I 
commit of treachery or deceit (hall be imputed to me as a 
merit — 'Treachery, what treachery ? Love cancels all the 
bonds of friendmip, and fets men right upon their full 
foundations. Duty to kings, piety to parents, gratitude to 
benefactors, and fidelity to friends, are different and parti- 
cular ties ; but the name of rival cuts them all afunder, 
and is a general acquittance — Rival is equal, and Love, 
like Death, an univerfal leveller of mankind. Ha ! but 
is there not fuch a thing as honefty ? Yes, and whofoever 
.has it about him, bears an enemy in his bre^ft : for your 
honeftman, as I take it, is that nice, fcrupulous, consci- 
entious perfon who will cheat nobody but himfelf ; fuch 
another coxcomb as your wife man,, who is too hard for 
all the world, and will be made a fool of by nobody but 
himfelf.. Ha, ha, ha; well, for wifdora and honefty, 
give me cunning and hypocrify ; Oh, 'tis fuch a plealure 
to angle for fair-faced fools ! — Then that hungry gudgeon 

Credulity will bite at any thing Why, let me fee, I 

have the fame face, the fame words and accents when I 
fpeak what I do think, and when I fpeak what I do not 

think the very fame -and dear diffimuiation is the 

only art not to be known from »ature» 


Why will mankind be fools, and be deceiv'd > 
And why are friends' and lovers' oaths believ'd ? 
When each who fearches ltrictly his own mind, 
May fo much fraud and power ofbafenefs find. 


End of the Second Act. 


Enter Lord Touchwood, and Lady Touchwood. 

Lady Touchwood. 

MY Lord, can you blame my brother Plyant, if he 
ref'ufe his daughter upon this provocation ? The 
contract is void by this unheard of impiety. 

Ld, T, I don't believe it true ; he has better principles 
■pho, 'tis nonfenfe. Come, come, I know my Lady 
Plyant has a large eye, and would centre every thing in 
her own circle; 'tis not the firit time Hie has miftaken 
refpecl for love, and made Sir Paul jealous of the civility 
of an undefigning perfon, the better to befpeak hisfecu- 
rity in her unfeigned pleafures. 

L. T, You cen Cure hardly, my Lord ; my filler's ho- 
nour is very well known. 

Ld, T, Yes, I believe I know fome that have been fa- 
miliarly acquainted with it. This is a little trick wrought 
by fome pitiful contriver, envious of my nephew's me- 

L, T, Nay, my Lord, it may be fo, and I hope it 
will be found fo : but that will require fome time ; for, 
in fuch a cafe as this, demonftration is neceifary. 

Ld, T, There mould have been demonftration of the 
contrary too before it had been believed ■ 

L, T. So I fuppofe there was. 

Ld. r. How ? Where ? When ? 

L. 7. That I can't tell ; nay, I don't fay there was— 
I am willing to believe as favourably of my nephew as I 

Ld, T. I don't know that. {HalfafiJe, 
L. T, How? Don't you believe that, fay you, my 
Lord ? 

Ld. n 


Ld. T. No, I don't fay fo — I confefs I am troubled 1 ^ 
find you fo cold in his defence. 

L. T. His defence ! Blefs me, would you have me de- 
fend an ill thing ? 

Ld. T. You believe it then ? 

L. T. I don't know ; I am very unwilling to fpeak my 
thoughts in any thing that may be to my coufin's difad- 
vantage ; belides, I find, my Lord, you are prepared to> 
receive an ill imprefiion from any opinion of mine which 
is not confenting with your own : but fince I am like to 
be fufpecled in the end, and 'tis a pain any longer to dif- 
femble, I own it to you ; in fhort I do believe it, nay, 
and can believe any thing worfe, if it were laid to hi& 

charge Don't afk me my reafons, my Lord, for 

they are not fit to be told you. 

Ld. T. I am amazed ! Here muft be fomething more 
than ordinary in this. [jiftde."] Not fit to be told me, Ma- 
dam t You can have no intereft wherein I am not con- 
cerned, and confequently the fame reafons ought to be 
convincing to me, which create your fatisfaction or dif* 

L. T. But thofe which caufe my difquiet I am willing 
to have remote from your hearing. Good my Lord, 
don't prefs me. 

Ld. T. Don't oblige me to prefs you. 

L. T. Whatever it was, 'tis paft ; and that is better to 
be unknown which cannot be prevented j therefore, let 
me beg you to reft fatfsfied.— — - 

Ld. T. When you have told me, I will ■ 

L. T. You won't. 

Ld. 71 By my life, my dear, I will. 
L. T. What if you cannot. 

Ld. T. How ? Then I mull know ; nay, I will; No* 
more trifling — I charge you tell me — By all our mutual 
peace to come ; upon your duty— 

L. T. Nay, my Lord, you need fay r.o more to make 
me lay my heart before you, but don't be thus tranfport- 
ed ; compofe yourfelf ; it is not of concern to make you 
lofe one minute's temper ; 'tis not, indeed, my dear.— 

* Nay, by this kifs you fhan't be angry..' O lord, I 

vvifn I had not told you any thing Indeed, my Lord, 

you have frighted me. Nay, look pleafed, I'll tell you. 

Ld. T. Well, well. 

L. T. Nay, but will you be calm? Indeed it is 

nothing but — 

Ld. T, But what ? 

L. T. But will you promife me not to be angry ? 
Kay, you muft — not to be angry with Meileront — I dare 
fwear he's forry — and were it to do again, would not - 

Ld. T. Sorry, for what ? 'Death, you rack me with 

L. T. Nay, no great matter, only — —Well, I have 
your promife— pho* why nothing, only your nephew had 
a mind to amufe himfelf fometimes with a little gallantry 
towards me. Nay, I can't think he meant any thing fe- 
rieufly, but methoughr it looked oddly. 

Ld. T. Confufion and Hell, what do I hear ! 
L. T. Or, may be, he thought he was n®t enougk 
akin to me upon upon your account, and had a mind to 
create a nearer relation on his own ; a lover, you know, 
my Lord — ha, ha, ha. Well, but that's all — 1 Now 
* you have it ;' well, remember your promife, my L»rd, 
and don't take any notice of it to him. 
Ld. T. No, no, no — Damnation! 
L.T. Nay, I fwear you muft not — A little harmlefs 
■mirth — only mifplaced, that's all. — But if it were more 
'tis over now, and all is well. For my part, I have for- 
got it ; and fo has he, I hope — for I have not heard any 
thing from him thefe two days. 

Ld. T. Thefe two days ! Is it fo frefli ? Unnatural vil- 
lain ! 'Death, I'll have him flripped and turned naked 
out of my doors this moment, and let him rot and perifli, 
inceftuous brute ! 

L. T. Oh, for Heaven's fake, my Lord, you'll ruift 
me if you take fuch public notice of it, it will be a town- 
talk : confider your own and my honour — Nay, I told 
you, you would not be fatisned when you knew it. 

Ld. T. Before I've done I will be fatisfied. Un- 
grateful monfter ! How long? 

L. T. Lord, I don't know : 1 wim my lips had 

grown together when I told you —Almoft a twelvemonth 
— Nay, I won't tell you any more 'till you are yourfelf. 
Pray, my Lord, don't let the company fee you in this 
diforder — Yet, I confefs, I cannot blame you ; for I 



think I was never fo furprized in my life — "Who would 
have thought my nephew could have fo mifconftrued my 
kindnefs — But will you go into your ciofet, and recover 
your temper. I'll make an excufe of fudden bufinefs to 
the company, and come to you. Pray, good dear my 
Lord, let me beg you do now : I'll come immediately, 
and tell you all Will you, my Lord ? 

Ld. T. I will ■ I am mute with wonder. 

jL. T. Well, but go now, here is fomebody coming. 

IJ. T. Well, I go — You won't flay, for I would hear 
more of this. [Exit. 

L. T. I follow inftantlv So. 

Enter Mafkwell. 

Mask. This was a mailer-piece, and did not need my 
help — though I ftood ready tor a cue to come in and con- 
firm all, had there been occalion. 

X. T. Have you feen Mellefont ? 

Mask. I have ; and am to meet him here about this 

L. T. How does he bear hisdifappointment ? 

Mask. Secure in my affiftance, he feemed not muck 
tifflicled, but rather laughed at the (hallow artifice, which 
fo little time muft of necelfity difcover. Yet he is ap- 
prehensive of fome farther defign of yours, and has en- 
gaged me to watch you. I believe he will hardly be able 
to prevent your plot, yet I would have you ufe caution 
and expedition. 

L.T. Expedition indeed ; for all we do muft be per- 
formed in the remaining part of this evening, and before 
the company break up, left my Lord lhould cool, and 

have an opportunity to talk with him privately My 

Lord mult not fee him again. 

jSIask. By no means ; therefore you muft aggravate 
my Lord's difpleafure to a degree that will admit of no 

conference with him. What think you or mentioning 

112 e ? 

L. T. How ? 

Mask. To my Lord, as having been privy to Melle- 
font's defign upon you, but ftill uling my urmolt endea- 
vours to difi'uade him : * tho' my friendfhip and love to 
6 him has made me conceal .it ; yet you may fay, I threa- 

* tened 


* tened the next time he attempted any thing of that 

* kind, to difcover it to my Lord.' 
L. T. To what end is this ? 

Mask. It will confirm my Lord's opinion of my ho- 
nour and honeity, and create in him a new confidence 
In me, which (mould this defign mifcarry) will be ne- 
ceffary to the forming another plot that I have in my 
'head to cheat you as well as the reft. [AfiJk* 

L. T. I'll do it — I'll tell him you hindered him once 
from forcing me. 

Mask. Excellent ! your Ladyfhip has a moil improving 
fancy. You had beft go to my Lord, keep him as long 
as yon can in his clofet, and I doubt not but you will 
mould him to what you pleafe ; your guefts are fo enga- 
ged in their own follies and intrigues, they'll mifs nei- 
ther of you. 

L. T. When fhall we meet? — At eight this evening 
in iry chamber; there rejoice at our fuccefs, and toy 
away an hour in mirth. [Exit. 

Mask. I wiil not fail,— 1 know what (he means 

Ibv toying away an hour well enough. Pox, I have loft 
?ll my appetite to her ; yet (he's a line woman, and I 
loved her once. 1 But I don't know, iince I have been 

* ill a great meafure kept by her, the cafe is altered ;' 
what was my pleafure is become my duty : and I have as 
little flomach to her now as if I were her hufband. 
Should flie fmoke my defign upon Cynthia, I were in a 
line pickle. She has a damned penet rating head, and 
knows how to interpret a coldnefs the right way ; there- 
fore I mull diiremble ardour andecftafy, that's refolved : 
How eafily and pleafantly is that diflembled before frui- 
tion ! Pox on it, that a man can't drink without quench- 
ing his thirft. Ha! yonder comesMellcfont thoughtful. 
Let me think : meet her at eight — hum — ha ! by Hea- 
ven 1 have it — if lean fpeak to my Lord before — ' Was 

* it my brain or Providence ? no matter which' — I will 
deceive them all, and yet fecure myfelf, 'twas a lucky 
thought ! Well, this double-dealing is a jewel. Here 
lie comes, now for me 

(Malkwell pretending not to fee him, walks by bim 9 and 
fpeaks as it were to h'u?ifeif % 

Si Enter 


Enter Mellefont mujtng. 

Mask. Mercy on us, what will the wickednefs of this 
world come to ? 

Mel. How now, Jack ? What, fo full of contempla- 
tion that you run over ! 

Mask. I'm glad you are come, for I could not contain 
myielf any longer, and was juli going to give vent to a 
fecret, which nobody but you ought to drink down.— 
Your aunt is juft gone from hence. 

Mel. And having trufted thee with the fecrets of her 
foul, thou art villainoufly bent to difcover them all to 
me, ha? 

Mask. I am afraid my frailty leans that way- ■ But I 
don't know whether I can in honour difcover them all. 

Mel. All, all man. What, you may in honour betray 
her as far as flie betrays herfelf. No tragical defign upon 
my perfon, I hope. 

Mask. No, but it is a comical defign upon mine, 

Mel. What do ft thou mean ? 

Mask. Liften and be dumb We have been bargain- 
ing about the rate of your ruin 

Mel. Like any two guardians to an orphan heirefs 

Mask. And whereas pleafure is generally paid with 
mifchief, what mifchief I do is to be paid with pleafure. 

Mel. So when you've fwal lowed the potion, you fwee- 
ren your mouth with a plumb. 

Mask. You are merry, Sir, but I (hall probe your con- 
flitution. In fhort, the price of your banifhment is to be 
paid with the perfon of 

Mel. Of Cynthia, and her fortune— Why you forget 
you told me this before. 

Mask. No, no So far you are right ; and I am, as 

an earneft of that bargain, to have full and free poflelfion 
of the perfon of your aunt. 

Mel. Ha. 1 . Pho, you trifle. 

Mask. By this light, I am ferious ; all raillery apart— 

I knew 'twould ftun you : This evening at eight me 

will receive me in her bed-chamber. 

Mel. Hell and the Devil, is flie abandoned of all grace 
—Why the woman is polTelTed— — 

Mask. Well, will you go in my (lead ? 

Mel, By Heaven into a hot, furnace fooner* 



Mask, No, you would not— it would not be fo con- 
venient, as I can order matters. 
Mel, What do ye mean ? 

Mask. Mean ? Not to difappoint the lady, I afllire you 

Ha, ha, ha, how gravely he looks Come, come, 

I won't perplex you. 'Tis the only thing that Providence 
could have contrived to make me capable of ferving you, 
tither to my inclination or your own neceffity. 

Mel, How, how, for Heaven's fake, dear Mafkwell f 

Mask, Why thus — I'll go according to appointment ; 
you mail have notice at the critical minute to come and 
furprize your aunt and me together ; counterfeit a rage 
againft me, and I will make my efcape through the pri- 
vate parage from her chamber, which I'll take care to 
leave open : 'twill be hard, if then you can't bring her 
to any conditions. For this difcovery will difarm her of 
all defence, and leave her entirely at your mercy : nay, 
ihe muft ever after be in awe of you. 

Mel. Let me adore thee, my better genius ! By- 
Heaven I think it is not in the power of Fate to difap- 
point my hopes My hopes, my certainty ! 

Mask, Well, I'll meet you here within a quarter of 
eight, and give you notice* [Exit* 

Mel. Good fortune ever go along with thee. 
Enter Carelefs. 

Care. Mellefont, get out of the way, my Lady Ply- 
ant's coming, and I {hall never fucceed while thou art in 

fight Tho' me begins to tack about ; but I made love 

a great while to no purpofe. 

Mel, Why, what's the matter ? She is convinced that 
I don't care for her. 

Care. I cannot get an anfwer from her that does not 
begin with her honour, or her virtue, her religion, or 
fome fuch cant. Then (he has told me the whole flory 
of Sir Paul's nine years courtfhip ; how he has lain for 
whole nights together upon the flairs before her cham- 
ber-door ; and that the firft favour he received from her 
was a piece of an old fcarlet petticoat for a ilomacher ; 
which, lince the day of his marriage, he has, out of a 
piece of gallantry, converted into a night-cap, and wears 
it ftill with much folemnity on his anniveriary wedding 

D 2 . Mel. 


Mel That I have feen, with the ceremony thereunto 
belonging — For on that night he creeps in at the bed's 
Jeet, like a gulled Baifa that has married a relation of the 
Grand Signior, 4 and that night he has his arms at li- 

* berry. Did fhe not tellyou at what a diftance me keeps 

* him ? He has conferred to me, that but at fome 

* certain times, that is, I fuppofe, when (lie apprehends 
' being with chilJ, he never has tJfcs privilege of ufing 

* the familiarity of a hufband with a wife. He was once 

* given to fcrambling wirh his hands, and fprawling in 

* his lleep, and ever fince fhe has fwaddled him up in 

* blankets, and his hands and feet fvvathed down, and la 
4 put to bed ; and there he lies with a great beard, like a 
*' Ruiiianbear upon a drift of lnow. You are very great 

* with him,' I wonder he never told you his grievances ; 
he will, I warrant you. 

Care. Exceffively foolifh !— — But that which give9 
me mofi hopes of her, is her- telling me of the many 
temptations ftie has refilled. 

Mel, Nay, then you have her ; for a woman's brag- 
ging to a man that (lie has overcome temptations, is an ar- 
gument that they were weakly offered, and a challenge 
to him to engage her more irrelillibly. 'Tis only an en- 
hancing the price of the commodity, by telling you how 
many cuflomers have underbid her. 

Car?, Nay, I don't defpair — Bur ftill (lie has a grud- 
ging to you 1 talked to her t'other night at my Lord 

Froth's mafcjuerade, when I am fatisfied (he knew me, 
and I had no reafon to complain of nay reception ; but I 

find women are not the fame bare-faced and in malks 

and a vizor difguifes their inclinations as much as their 

Mcl. 4 Tis a miilake ; for women may mod properly 
4 be faid to be unmafked when they wear vizors ; for 
■ that fecures them from blufliing, and being out of 

* countenance, and next to being in the dark, or alone, 

* they are moft truly themfelves in a vizor-mafk/ Here 
they come. I'll leave you. Ply her clofe, and by and by 
elap a billet-doux into her hand : for a woman never 
thinks a man truly in love with her 'till he has been fool 
enough to think of her out of her fight, and to loft fa 
much time as to write to her* [Exit. 



Enter Sir Paul and Lady Ply ant. 

Sir P. Shan't we difturb your meditation, Mr. Care- 
lefs ? You would be in private ? 

Care. You bring that along with you, Sir Paul, that 
fhall be always welcome to my privacy. 

Sir P. O, fweet Sir, you load your humble fervants, 
both meand my wife, with continual favours. 

L. P. Sir Paul, what a phrafe was there ! You will 
be making anfwers, and taking that upon you which 
ought to lie upon me : that you fliould have fo little 
breeding to think Mr.Ca re lefs did not apply himfelf to me. 
Pray, what have you to entertain any body's privacy ? 
I fvvear and declare in the face of the world I'm ready to 
blulh for your ignorance. 

Sir P. lacquiefce, my Lady; but don't fn-ub foloud. 

\Afide to her, 

L. P. Mr. Carelefs, if a perfon that is wholly illite- 
rate might be fuppofed to be capable of being qualified 
to make a fuitable return to thofe obligations which you 
are pleafed to confer upon one that is wholly incapable at 
being q'ualifted in all thofe citcum fiances, I am fure I 
fbould rather attempt it than any thing in the world, 
[Conrtejics.) for I'm fure there's nothing in the world 
that I would rather. [Courtefos.] But I know Mr. Care- 
lefs is fo great a critic, and fo fine a gentleman, that it is 
impcfUble for me- 

Care. O Heavens ! Madam, you confound me. 

Sir P. Gads-bud, {he's a fine perfon— 

L. P. O lord ! Sir, pardon me ; we women have not 
thofe advantages : I know my own imperfections — but 
at the fame time you muft give me leave to declare in the 
face of the world that nobody is more fenfible of favours- 
and things : for, with the referve of my honour, I af- 
fwreyou, Mr. Carelefs, I don't know any thing in the 

world I would refufe to a perfon fo meritorious - 

You'll pardon my want of expreffioh. 

Car f t O, your Laclyfliip is abounding in all excellence,, 
particularly that of phrafe. 

L. P. You are fo obliging, Sir. 

Care. Your Ladyfhip is fo charming. 

Sir P. So, now, now; now, my Lady. 

L. P. So well bred. 

D 3 Care. 


Care. So furprizing. 

L. P. So well dreft r fo benne mien, fo eloquent, Co ua~ 

afte&ed, lb eafy, fo free, fo particular, fo agreeable • 

Sir P. Ay,fo, fo, there. 

Care. O lord, I befeech you, Madam, don't W- 

L. P. So gay, fo graceful, fo good teeth, fo fine 
ihape, fo fine limbs, fo fine linen, and I don't doubt but 
you have a very good (kin, Sir. 

Care. For Heaven's fake, Madam I am quite out 
of countenance,- 

Sir P. And my Lady's quite out of breath ; or elfe 
you mould hear— Gad's-bud, you may talk of my Lady 

Care. O fy, fy, not to be named of a day— -My Lady 
Froth is very well in her accompliihments— but it is 
when my Lady Plyant is not thought o f If that can 
ever be. 

L. P. O, you overcome me That is fo exceffive. 

Sir P. Nay, I fwear and vow that was pretty. 

Care. O, Sir Paul, you are the happielfc man alive. 
Such a lady ! that is the envy of her own lex, and the 
admiration of ours. 

Sir P. Your humble fervant ; I am, I thank Heaven, 
m a fine way of living, as I may fay, peacefully and 
happily, and I think need not envy any of my neigh- 
bours, bleffed be Providence Ay, truly, Mr. Care- 

lefs, my Lady is a great bleffing, a fine, difcreet, well- 
fpoken woman as you mall fee - if it becomes me to fay 
fo ; i\nd we live very comfortably together ; (lie is a little- 
haily fometimes, and fo am I; but mine's foon over, 
and then I am fo forry — O, Mr. Carelefs, if it were not 
tor one thing—— 

Enter Boy <witb a letter. 

L.P. How often have you been told of that, you 
jackanapes ? 

Sir P. Gad fo, gads-bud Tim, carry it to my 

Lady, you mould have carried it to my Lady firft. 

Bay. 'Tis directed to your worfhip. 

Sir P. Well, well, my Lady reads all letters firft 

Child, do fo no more ; d'ye hear, Tim» 

Boy* No 3 and pleafe you, [Exit. 

Sir P> 


Sir P. A humour of my wife's ; you know women 

liave little fancies But as I was telling you y Mr. Care- 

lefs, if it were not for one thing, I -fliould think myfelfr 
the happieft man in the world ; indeed that touches me 
near, very near. 

Care, What can that be, Sir Paul ? 

Sir P. Why, I have r I thank Heaven, a very plentf- 
ful fortune, a good eftate in the country, fomehoufes in 
town, and fome money, a pretty tolerable perfonal 
«(tate; and it is a great grief to me, indeed it is, Mr. 
Carelefs, that I have not a fon to inherit this. 'Tis 
true, I have a daughter, and a fine dutifu^ child (he is, 
though I lay it, blefled be Providence I may fay ; for in- 
deed, Mr. Carelefs, I am mightily beholden to Provi- 
dence—A poor unworthy finner— But if I had a fon, ah ! 
that's my affliction, and my only affliction ; indeed, I 
cannot refrain tears when it comes into my mind. [Cries. 

Care* Why, methinks that might be eafily remedied ; 
my Lady is a fine likely woman. 

Sir P. Oh, a fine likely woman as you mall fee in a 
fummer's day— —-Indeed (he is, Mr. Carelefs, in all 

Care, And I fliould not have taken you to have been fo 
rid ■ 

Sir P. Alas ! that's not it, Mr. Carelefs : ah ! that's 
not it ; no, no, you (hoot wide of the mark a mile ; in- 
deed you do; that's not it, Mr. Carelefs ; no, no, that's 
not it. 

Care. No, what can be the matter then ? 

Sir P. You'll fcarcely believe me when I (hall tell you 

my Lady is fo nice It is very ftranue, but it is 

true : too true — (he is lb very nice, that I don't believe 

(he would touch a man for the world. * At leait not 

' above once a year ; I am fure I have found it fo ; and 
1 alas, what's once a year to an old man, who would do 
' good in his generation !' Indeed, it is true, Mr. Care- 
lefs, it breaks my heart — I am her hufoand, as I may 
fay ; though far unworthy of that honour, yet I am hei- 
hulband ; but alas-a-day, I have no more familiarity with 
her perfon — 4 as to that matter'— than with my own 
mother no indeed, 



Care. Alas-a-day ! this is a lamentable ftory ; my Lady 
mull be told on't ; {he muft, i'faith, Sir Paul ; 'tis an 
injury to the world. 

Sir P. Ah ! would to Heaven you would, Mr. Care- 
lefs ; you are mightily in her favour. 

Care. I warrant you, what, we muft have a Ton fome 
way or other. 

Sir P. Indeed, I mould be mightily bound to you, if 
you could bring it about, Mr. Carele's. 

L. P. Here, Sir Paul, it is from your fteward, here's 
a return of 600 1. you may take fifty of it for the next 
half-year. [Gives bim the letter. 

Enter Lord Froth and Cynthia. 

Sir P, How does my girl ? Come hither to thy father, 
poor lamb, thou a«rt melancholic. 

Ld. F. Heaven, Sir Paul, you amaze me of all things 
in the world — You are never pleafed but when we are ail 
upon the broad grin ; ail laugh and no company ; ah ! 

then 'tis fuch a fight to fee fome teeth Sure you are 

a great admirer of my Lady Whifler, Mr. Sneer, and 
Sir Laurence Loud, and that gang. 

Sir P. I vow and fwear (he is a very merry woman, 
but I think file laughs a little too much. 

Ld. F. Merry ! O lord, what a character that is of a 

woman of quality You have been at my Lady Whi- 

fter's upon her day, Madam ? 

Cyn. Yes, my Lord — I mud humour this fool. [AJide. 

Ld. F. Well and how ? hee ! What is your fenfe of 
the converfation ? 

Cyn. O, moft ridiculous, a perpetual concert of laugh- 
ing without any harmony ; for fure, my Lord, to laugh 
out of time, is as difagreeable as to ling out of time or 
out of tune. 

Ld. F. Hee, hee, hee, right ; and then my Lady 
Whifler is fo ready — Hie always comes in three bars too 
foon — And then, what do they laugh at ? For you know 
laughingwithout a jeft is as impertinent, hee ! as 

Cyn. As dancing without a fiddle. 

Ld. F. Juft i'faith, that was at my tongue's end. 

Cyn. But that cannot be properly faid of them, for I 
think they are all in good nature with the world, and 
only laugh at one another j and you mull allow they 



liavc all jefls in their perfons, though they have none in 
their converfation. 

Ld. F. True, as I am a perfon of honour ■ — For 

Heaven's fake let us facrifice them to mirth a little. 

[Enter Boy and wblfpers Sir Paul. 

Sir P. Gad fo— Wife, Wife, my Lady Plyant, I have 
a word. 

L. P* I am bufy, Sir Paul, I wonder at your imper- 

Care. Sir Paul, harkee, I am reafoning the matter 
you know: Madam, if your Ladyfhip pleafe we'll dif- 
courfeof this in the next room. [Ex. Lady P. and Care. 

Sir P. O ho, I wiftiyou good iuccefs, I wifli you good 
fuccefs. Boy, tell my Lady, when (he has done, I 
would fpeak with her below. [Exit Sir Paul. 

Enter Lady Froth tf«^Brifk. 

L. F, Then you think that epifode between Sufan the 
dairy-maid, and our coachman, is not amifs ; you know 
I may fuppofe the dairy in town, as well as in the awn* 

Brisk. Incomparable, let me perilh — But then being an 
heroic poem, had you not better call him a Charioteer ? 
Charioteer founds great : befides your Ladyfhip's coach- 
man having a red face, and you comparing him to the 

fun And you know the fun is called Heaven's CharU 


' L. F, Oh, infinitely better j I am extremely beholden 
to you for the hint ; ltay, we'll read over thofe half a 
fcore line* again. [Pulls out a paper.] Let me fee here, 
you know what goes before ■ the comparifon, you 
know. [Reads.] 

For as the fun fliines every day, 
So of our coachman I may fay. 
Brisk. 1 am afraid that fimile won't do in wet weather 

Becaul'e you fay the fun fhines every day. 
L. F. No, for the fun it won't, but it will do for the 
coachman, for you know there's mod occalion for a 
coach in wet weather. 

Brisk, Right, right, that faves all. 
L. F. Then I don't fay the fun fnines all the day, but 
that he peeps now and then, yet he docs (hineall the day 
; ! i)o, you know, though we don't fee him. 
; Brisk*. 


Brisk. Right, but the vulgar will never comprehend 

L. F. Well, you mall hear — Let me fee. 
[Reads,] For as the fun mines every day, 
So of our coachman I may fay ; 
He mews his drunken fiery face, 
Juft as the fun does, more or lefs. 
Brisk. That's right, all's well, all's well. More or 

L.F. {Reads.] 

And when at night his labour's done, 
Then too, like Heaven's charioteer, the fun : 
Ay, Charioteer does better. 
Into the dairy he defcends, 
And there his whipping and his driving ends ; 
There he's fecure from danger of a bilk, 
His fare is paid him, and he fets in milk. 
ForSufan, you know, is Thetis, and fo' ■ 

Brisk. Incomparable well and proper, 'egad — But I 
have one exception to make— — Don't you think bilk ( L 
know it is good rhyme) but don't you think bilk and fare 
too like a hackney coachman ? 

L. F. I fwear and vow I am afraid fo- And yet 

cur Jehu was a hackney coachman when my Lord took 

Brisk. Was he? I am anfwered, if Jehu was a hack- 
ney coachman — You may put that in the marginal notes 
tho' to prevent criticifm — Only mark it with a lmall afte- * 
rifm, and fay — Jehu was formerly a hackney coachman. 

L. F. I will ; you'll oblige me extremely to write 
notes to the whole poem. 

Brisk. With all my heart and foul, and proud of the 
vaft honour, let me perifli. 

Ld. F. Hee, hee, hee, my dear, have you done ?— 
Won't you join with us ? we were laughing at my Lady 
Whifler and Mr. Sneer. 

L. F. —Ay, my dear Were you ? Oh filthy . 

Mr. Sneer; he's a naufeous figure, a mod fuifamic fop, 

foh He fpent two days together in going about 

Covent-Garden to fuit the lining of his coach with his, 



Ld. F. O (illy ! yet his aunt is as fond of him as if flie 
had brought the ape into the world herfelf. 

Brisk, Who, my Lady Toothlefs ; O, file's a morti- 
fying fpeclacle ; file's always chewing the cud like an -old 

Cyn. Fy, Mr.Brifk, eringo is for her cough. 
L. F. I have feen her take them half-chewed out of 
her mouth to laugh, and then put them in again— Foh. 
Ld.F. Foh. 

L. F. Then flie is always ready to laugh when Sneer 
offers to fpeak — and fits in expectation of his nojefl, with 
her gums bare, and her mouth open 

Brisk, Like an oyfter at low ebb, 'egad — Ha, ha, ha. 

* Cyn. [JJide.] Well, I find there are no fools fo in- 

* conliderable in themfelves, but they can render other 
4 people contemptible by expofing their infirmities.' 

L. F. Then that t'other great flrapping lady— I 
cannot hit of her name ; the old fat fool that paints fo 

Brisk, I know whom you mean — But deuce take me, 

I cannot hit of her name neither Paints, d'ye fay ? 

Why, (he lays it on with a trowel Then fhe has a 

great beard that briilles through it, and makes her look 
as if (he were plaifiered with lime and hair, let me pe- 

L, F. Oh, you made a fong upon her, Mr.Brifk. 
Brisk. He ! 'egad, fo I did My Lord can fing it. 

* Cyn. O good, my Lord, let us hear it.' 

Brisk, 'Tisnotafong neither It is a fort of an 

epigram, or rather an epigrammatic fonnet; I don't 
know what to call it, but it is fatire.— 4 Sing it, my 

* Lord.' 

Lord Froth Jings. 

Ancient Phillis has young graces, 
'Tis a ftrange thing, but a true one ; 

Shall I tell you how ? 
She herfelf makes her own faces, 
And each morning wears a new one ? 

Where's the wonder now ? 

Brisk. Short, but there is fait in it j my way of vrtU 
ting, 'egad, 

4 Enter 


Enter Footman, 
L. F. How now ? 

Foot. Your Ladyfhip's chair is come. 

L. F. Is nurfe and the child in it ? 

Foot. Yes, Madam. [Exit. 

L. F. O, the dear creature ! let us go fee It. 

Lrl. F. I fwear, my dear, you'il fpoil that child with 
fending it to and again fo often ; this is the feventh time 
the chair has gone for her to-day. 

L.F. O-la, I fwear it's but the fixth and I han't 

feen her thefe two hours The poor dear creature' 

I fwear, my Lord, you don't love poor little Sappho, 

Come, my dear Cynthia, Mr. Brifk, we'll go fee 

Sappho, though my Lord won't. 

Cyn. I'll wait upon your Ladyfhip. 

Brisk. Pray, Madam, how old is Lady Sappho ? 

L. F. Three quarters, but I fwear (be has a world of 
wit, and can ling a tune already. My Lord, won't you 
go ? Won't you ■? What, not to fee Saph ? Pray, my 
Lord, come fee little Saph. I knew you could not fray. 

[Exeunt all hit Cvnthia. 

* Cyn. 'Tis not fo hard to counterfeit joy in the 
4 depth of affliction, as to duTemble mirth in the com* 

* pany of fools Why fiiould I call them foe Is r Xhc 

* world thinks better of them ; for thefe have quality 

* and -education, wit and fine converfation, arc received 

* and admired by the. world If not, they I k. and 

* admire themfelves ——And why is not thai true wif- 

* <lom, for it is -happinefs ? And for ought I know, we 

* have mifapplied the name all this while, and mucker? 

* the thing : fince 

' If happinefs in felf-content is plac'd, 

* The wife are wretched, and fools only blefs'd. 

r ■ [E.\?t. 

End of the Third Act. 


* J&nter Mellefont and Cynthia. 
* Cynthia. 

* T Heard himJoud as I came by the clofef door, fcftfl 
« X my Lady with him? but (he fcemed to inoderat| 


* Mel. Ay, Hell thank her, as gentle breezes moderate 
a fire ; but I fnall counter- work her fpells, and ride 
the witch in her own bridle. 

4 Cyn. It is impoifible ; flie'll caft beyond you ftill * 

I'll lay my life it will never be a match. 

* Mel What ? 

* Cyn. Between you and me. 

* Mel. Why fo ? 

' Cyn. My mind gives me it won't becaufe we are 

both willing ; we each of us ft rive to reach the goal, 
and hinder one another in the race ; I fwear it never 
does well when parties are fo agreed — For when people: 
walk hand in hand, there's neither overtaking nor 
meeting : we hunt in couples where we both purfue 
the fame game, but forget one another ; and 'tis be- 
caufe we are fo near that we don't think of coming to- 

1 Mel. Hum, 'egad I believe there's fometbing in it — 
Marriage is the game that we hunt, and while we 
think that we only have it in view, I don't fee but 
we have it in our power. 

' Cyn. Within reach ; for example, give me your 
hand \ you have looked through the wrong end or the 
perfpeclive all this while ; for nothing has been be- 
tween us but our fears. 

' Mel. I don't know why we mould not fteal out of 
the houfe this very moment, and marry one another, 
without confideration, or the fear of repentance." Pox 
o'fortune, portion, fettlements, and jointures. 

1 Cyn. Ay, ay, what have we to do with them ; you 
know we marry for love. 

' Mel. Love, love, downright very villainous love. 

* Cyn. And he that cannot live upon love deferves to 

die in a ditch. Here then, I give you my promife, 

in fpite of duty, any temptation of wealth, your in- 
conftancy, or my own inclination to change 

6 Mel. To run moll wilfully and unreasonably away 

with me this moment, and be married. 

' Cyn. Hold — Never to marry any body elfe. 

4 Mel. That's but a kind of negative confent — Why, 

you won't baulk the frolic r* 

£ ' Cyn. 


' Cyn. If you had not been fo allured of your own 

4 conduct I would not But 'tis but reafonable that 

4 fince Xconfent to like a man without the vile confide- 
4 ration of money, he fliould give me a very evident de- 
4 monftration of his wit : therefore, let me fee you un- 
4 dermine my Lady Touchwood, as you boafted, and 
4 force her to give her confent, and then ■ 

4 Mel. I'll do it. 

4 Cyn. And Til do it. 

4 Mel, This very next cnfuing hour of eight o'clock, 

* is the laft minute of her reign, unlefs the Devil afiift 
4 her in propria perfona, 

* Cyn. Well, if the Devil fhould affift her, and your 

4 plot mifcarry. 

4 Mel. Ay, what am I to truft to then ? 

4 Cyn. Why, if you give me very clear demonftration 

* that it was the Devil, I will allow for irrefiftible odds. 

* But if I find it to be only chance, or deftiny, or un- 

* lucky ftars, or any thing but the very Devil, I am in- 
4 exorable: only ftill I'll keep my word, and live a maid 
4 for your fake. 

4 Mel. And you won't die one for your own, fo ftill 
4 there's hope. 

4 Cyn. Here is my mother-in-law, and your friend 
4 Carelefs, I would not have them fee us together yet. 

« {Exeunt: 

Enter Carelefs and Lady Plyant.* 
L. P. I fwear, Mr. Carelefs, you are very alluring— 
and fay fo many fine things, and nothing is fo moving to 
me as a fine thing. Well, I muft do you thisjuftice, 
and declare in the face of the world, never any body 
gained fo far upon me as yourfelf ; with blufiies I muft 
own it, you have fhaken, as I may fay, the very foun- 
dation of my honour — Well, fureif I efcape your impor- 
tunities, I mall value myfelf as long as I live, I fwear. 
Care, And defpife me. [Sighing, 
L, P. The laft of any man in the world, by my pu- 
rity ; now you make me fwear — O, gratitude forbid that 
I fliould ever be wanting in a refpedtful acknowledgment 
of an entire i efignation of all my bell wifhes for the per- 

* The fourth aft, in reprefeiitation, begins here. 



fon and parts of fo accomplifhed a perfon, whcfe merit 
challenges much more, 1 am fure, than my illiterate 
praifes can defcription.— — 

Care. [In a whining tone. ~\ Ah, Heavens, Madam, you' 
ruin me with kindnefs ; your charming tongue purfues 
the vidory of your eyes, while at your feet your poor 
adorer dies. 

L. P. Ah ! very fine. 

Care. [Still whining.] Ah, why are you fo fair, fo be- 
witching fair ? O, let me grow to the ground here, and 
feaft upon that hand ; O, let me prefs it to my heart, my 
trembling heart, the nimble movement fliall inftruft 
yourpulfe, and teach it to alarm defire. — Zocns I am al- 
moft at the end of my cant, if (he does not yield quickly. 


L. P. O that's fo paffionate and fine, I cannot hear it — 
I am not fafe if I ftay, and muft leave you. 

Care. And muft you leave me ! Rather let me languifti 
out a wretched life, and breathe my foul beneath your 

feet-~ 1 muft fay the fame thing over again, and 

cannot help it. [AJide. 

L. P. 1 fwear I am ready to languifti too O my 

honour ! Whither is it going ? I proteft you have given 
me the palpitation of the heart. 

Care. Can you be fo cruel ? 

L. P. O rife, I befeech you, fay no more 'till you 
rife — Why did you kneel fo long ? I fwear I was fo tranf- 
ported I did not fee it— Well, to mew you how far 
you have gained upon me, I affure you, if Sir Paul 
Ihould die, of all mankind there's none I'd fooner make 
my fecond choice. 

Care. O Heaven ! I cannot out-live this night without 

your favour 1 feel my fpirits faint, a general damp- 

nefs over-fpreads my face, a cold deadly dew already 
vents through all my pores, and will to-morrow wafti 
me for ever from your fight, and drown me in my tomb, 

L. P. O, you have conquered, fweet, melting, mo- 
ving Sir, you have conquered — What heart of marble 
can refrain to weep, and yield to fuch fad fayings.— 


Care. I thank Heaven, they are the faddeft that I ever 
faid— Oh! * I fhall never contain laughter,' \Afide. 

E 2 L. P* 


L. P. Oh, I yield myfelf all up to your uncontroulable 

embraces Say, thou dear dying man, when, where, 

and how ? * Ah, there's Sir Paul.' 

Care, 'Slife, yonder's Sir Paul, but if he we* not 

come, I am lb tranfported I cannot fpeak This 

note will inform you. [Gives her a note. Exit. 

Enter Sir Paul and Cynthia. 

Sir P. Thou art my tender lambkin, and fhalt do what 
thou wilt — But endeavour to forget this Mellefont. 

Cyn. I would obey you to my power, Sir ; but if I 
have not him, I have fworn never to marry. 

Sir P. Never to marry ! Heavens forbid ! Muft I nei- 
ther have Ions nor grandfons ? Mull the family of the 
Plyants be utterly extinct for want of iflue male. Oh, 
impiety! But did you fwear, did that fweet creature 
fwear ! ha ? How durft you fwear without my confent, 
ah ? Gads-bud, who am I ? 

Cyn. Pray don't be angry, Sir ; when I fwore I had 
your confent, and therefore I fwore. 

Sir P. Why fhen the revoking my confent does annul, 
or make of none effect your oath ; fo you may unfwear it 
again ' -The law will allow it. 

Cyn. Ay, but my confcience never will. 

Sir P. Gads-bud, no matter for that ; confcience and 
law never go together ; you muft not expect that. 

L. P. Ay, but Sir Paul, I conceive if Ihe has fworn, 
d'ye mark me, if flie has once fworn, it is moil unchri- 
ftian, inhuman, and obfcene that (he fhould break it.——— 
I'll make up the match again, becaufe Mr. Carelefs faid 
it would oblige him. \Ajidc* 

Sir P. Does your Ladyfliip conceive fo ? Why, I 

was of that opinion once too Nay, if your Ladyfhip 

conceives fo, lam of that opinion again ; but I can nei- 
ther find my Lord nor my Lady, to know what they in- 

L. P. I am fatisfied that my coufin Mellefont has been 
much wronged. 

Cyn. [sl/ide.] I am amazed to find her of our fide, for 
I am fure fhe loved him. 

. L. P. I know my Lady Touchwood has no kindnefs 
for him ; and befides, I have been informed by Mr. 
Carelefs, that Mellefont had never any thing more than 



a profound refpect — That he has owned himfelf to be my 
admirer, *tis true, but he was never fo prefumptuous to 
entertain any difhonourable notions of things ; fo that if 
this be made plain — I don't fee how my daughter can in* 
conference, or honour, or any thing in the world 

Sir P. Indeed if this be made plain,, as my Lady your 
mother fays, child 

L. P. Plain ! I was informed of it by Mr. Carelefs—- 
And I allure you Mr. Carelefs is a perfon — that has a 
moll extraordinary refpecl and honour for you, Sir Paul. 

Cyn. [A/ide.] And for your Ladyfhip too r I believe* 
or elfe you had not changed fides fo foon ; now I begin 
to find it. 

Sir P. I am much obliged to Mr. Carelefs, really, he 
is a perfon that I have a great value for, not only for 
that, but becaufe he has a great veneration for your La- 

L. P. O la, no indeed, Sir Paul, it is upon your ac- 

Sir P. No, I proteft and vow I have no title to hia 
efteem, but in having the honour to appertain in fome 
meafure to your Ladyfhip,. that's all. 

L. P. O la, now, I fwear and declare, it fhan^t be fo, 
you are too modeft, Sir Paul. 

Sir P, It becomes me, when there is any comparifon 
made between ■ 

L.P, O fy, fy, Sir Paul, you'll put me- out of coun- 
tenance Your very obedient and affectionate wife,, 

that's all And highly honoured in that title. 

Sir P. Gads-bud I am tranfported ! Give me leave to 
kifs your Lady mi p's hand. 

* Cyn, That my poor father mould be fo very filly !,* 


L. P. My lip> indeed, Sir Paul, I fwear you (hall. 

[He kijfes her, and bows very lovj.. 

Sir P. I humbly thank your Ladyfhip — I don't know 

whether I fly on ground, or walk in air Gads-bud, 

fhe was never thus before Well, I muft own myfelf 

beholden to Mr. Carelefs — As fure as can be this is ail 
his doing — fomething that he has faid. ; well, 'tis a rare 
thing to have an ingenious friend. Weil, your Lady- 
fhip is of opinion that the match may go forward. 


L. P. By all means — Mr. Garelefs has fatisfied me of 
the matter. 

Sir P. Well, why then, lamb, you may keep your 
oath, but have a care of making rafli vows ; come hither 
to me, and kifs papa. 

L. P. I fvvear and declare, I am in fuch a twitter to 
read Mr. Carelefs's letter, that I cannot forbear any 
longer — But though I may read all letters fir ft by prero- 
gative, yet I'll be fure to be unfufpected this time. 

Sir Paul. 

Sir P. Did your Ladyfhip call ? 

L. P. Nay, not to interrupt you, my dear Only 

lend me your letter, which you had from your fteward 
to-day : I would look upon the account again j and may 
be increafe the allowance. 

Sir P, There it is, Madam. Do you want a pen and 
ink ? [Bows and gives the letter. 

L. P. No, no, nothing elfe, I thank you, Sir Paul — 
So now I can read my own letter under the cover of his. 


Sir P. He ? and wilt thou bring a grandfon at nine 
months end---He ? A brave chopping boy. — I'll fettle a 
thoufand pounds a year upon the rogue as foon as ever he 
looks me in the face, I will Gads-bud. I am overjoyed 
to think I have any of my family that will bring chil- 
dren into the world. For I would fain have ibme re* 
femblance of myfelf in my pofterity, he, Thy! * Can- 
■* not you contrive that affair, girl ? Do ; Gads-bud 
* think on thy old father;' heh 1 Make the young rogue 
as like as you can. 

Cyn. I am glad to fee you fo merry, Sir. 

Sir P, Merry ! Gads-bud I am ferious ! Til give thee 
500 1. for every inch of him that refembles me ; ah, this 
eye, this left eye ! A thoufand pounds for this left eye* 
This has done execution in its time, girl ; why, thou haft 
my leer, huffy, juft thy father's leer. — Let it be trans- 
mitted to the young rogue by the help of imagination— - 
Why 'tis the mark of our family, Thy ; our houfe is 
diftinguilhed by a languiming eye, as the houfe of Auftria 
is by a thick lip Ah ! when I was of your age, huf- 
fy, I would have held fifty to one I cculd have drawn my 

own picture Gads-bud, but I eouiU have done 



not fo much as you neither, but nay, don't 

blufh — 

Cyn. I don't blufh, Sir, for I vow I don't underftand. 

Sir P. Plhaw, plhaw, you fib, you baggage, you do 
imderftand, and you fhall imderftand : Come, don't be 
fo nice ; Gads-bud don't learn after your mother-in-law, 

my Lady here Marry Heaven forbid that you mould 

follow her example, that would fpoil all indeed. Bids 
us, if you fhould take a vagary, and make a rafn refoiu- 
tion on your wedding-night to die a maid, as (he did, all 

were ruined, all my hopes loft My heart would- 

break, and my eftate would be left to the wide world, be ! 
I hope you are a better Chriftian than to think of living , 
a nun, he ? Anfwer me. 

Cyn. I am all obedience, Sir, fo your commands. 

L. P. {Having read the letter.'] O dear Mr. Carelefs, 
I fwear he writes charmingly, and he looks charmingly, 
and he has charmed me as much as I have charmed him ; 
and fo I'll tell him in the wardrobe when 'tis dark. O 

Crimine I I hope Sir Paul has not fee n both letters 

[Puts the wrong letter baftily up, and gives him her own."] 
Sir Paul, here's your letter, to-morrow morning I'll fet- 
tle accounts to your advantage. 

Enter Brifk.- 

Brisk. Sir Paul, Gad's-bud you are an uncivil perfon, 
let me tell you, and all that ; and 1 did not think it had 
been in you. 

Sir P. Ola, what's the matter now? I hope you are 
not angry, Mr. Brilk ? 

Brisk. Deuce take me, I believe you intend to marry 
your daughter yourfelf; you are always brooding over 
her like an old hen, as if the were not well hatched, 'egad, 

Sir P. Good ftrange ! Mr. Brifk is fuch a merry face- 
tious perfon, he, he, he. No, no, I have done with her, 
I have done with her now. 

Brisk. The fiddles have flayed this hour in the hall, 
and my Lord Froth wants a partner j we can never begin 
without her. 

Sir P. Go, go, child, go, get you gone and dance, and 

be merry; I will come and look at you by and by. • 

Where is my fon Mellefont ? 



L. P. I'll fend him to them, I know where he is 

Brisk. Sir Paul, will you fend Carelefs into the hall if 
you meet him. 

Sir P. I will, I will, I'll go and look for him on pur- 
pofe. [Ex. all but Brilk. 

Brisk. So now they are all gone, and I have an oppor- 
tunity to practife Ah ! my dear Lady Froth ' She's 

a moll engaging creature, if (he were not fo fond of that 
damned coxcombly Lord of hers ; and yet I am forced to 

allow him wit too, to keep in with him No matter, 

Ihe's a woman of parts, and 'egad parts will carry her. 

She faid, lhe would follow me into the gallery Now 

to make my approaches — Hem, hem ! Ah, Ma- [Bozvs.~\ 

dam ! Pox on't, why fhould I difparage my parts by 

thinking what to fay; None but dull rogues ttenlt witty 
men, like rich fellows, are always ready for all expences, 
while your blockheads, like poor neecy fcoundrels, are 
forced to examine their flock, and forecaft the charges of 
the day. Here the comes ; I'll feem not to fee her, and 
try to win her with a new airy invention of my own> 
hem ! 

Enter Laay Froth. 
[Brilk Jings, walking about.'] I'm lick with love, ha, ha, 
ha, pr'ythee come cure me. 

I'm fick with, &c. 
O ye powers ! O my Lady Froth, my Lady Froth ! My 
Lady Froth ! Heigho ! Break heart ; Gods I thank you. 

[Stands mujing nvitb bis arms acrofs. 

L. F. O Heavens, Mr. Brilk ! What's the matter? 

Brisk. My Lady Froth ! Your Lady (hip's molt humble 

fervant The matter,. Madam ? Nothing, Madam, 

nothing at all 'egad. I was fallen into the mott agreeable 
amufement in the whole province of contemplation.: 

That is all (I'll feem to conceal my paliion, and that 

will look like re! peel.) [jf/til&. 

L. F. Bleis me, why did you call out upon me fo 
loud ? 

Brisk. O lord, I Madam ! I befeech your Lady {hip 
. When ? 

L. F. Jufl now as I came in ; blefs me, why don't 

you know it ? 



Brisk. Not I, let me perifh But did I ? Strange ! 

I confefs your Ladyfhip was in my thoughts ; and I was 
in a fort of dream that did in a manner reprefent a very 
pleafing object to my imagination, but but did I in- 
deed ? To fee how love and murder will out. But 

did I really name my Lady Froth ? 

L. F. Three times aloud, as I love letters'—But 
did you talk of love ? O Parnaffus ! Who would have 
thought Mr. Brifk could have been in love, ha, ha, ha. 
O Heavens ! I thought you could have no miftrefs but 
the nine mufes, 

Brifh. No more I have, 'egad, for I adore them all in 

your Ladyfhip Let me perifh, I don't know whether 

to be fplenetic or airy upon it ; the deuce take me if I 
can tell whether I am glad or forry that your Ladyfhip 
has made the difcovery. 

L. F. O, be merry by all means— -Prince Volfcius 
in love ! Ha, ha, ha. 

Brisk, O, barbarous, to turn me into ridicule ! Yet, 
ha, ha, ha. The deuce take me, I cannot help laugh- 
ing myfelf, ha, ha, ha ; yet by Heavens I have a violent 
paifion for your Ladyfhip ferioufly. 
. L. F. Serioufly ! Ha, ha, ha. 

Brisk. Serioufly, ha, ha, ha. Gad I have for all I 

L. F. Ha, ha, ha ! What d'ye think I laugh at? Ha, 
ha, ha. 

Brisk. Me 'egad, ha ha. 

L. F. No, the deuce take me if I don't laugh at my- 
felf; for hang me if I have not a violent paffion for Mr. 
Brifk, ha, ha, ha. 

Brisk. Serioufly ? 

L. F. Serioufly, ha, ha, ha. 

Brisk, That's well enough, let me perifh, ha, ha, ha. 
O miraculous, what a happy difcovery ! Ay, my dear 
charming Lady Froth ! 

L. F. Oh, my adored Mr. Brifk ! \Emhrace. 
Enter Lord Froth. 

Ld. F. The company are all ready How now! 

Brisk. Zoons, Madam, there's my Lord. [Softly to ber.] 

L. F. Take no notice but obferve me Now 

call off, and meet me at the lower cud of the room, and 



then join hands again; I could teach my Lord this dance 
purely, but I vow, Mr. Brifk, I can't tell how to come 
fo near any other mam Oh, here's my Lord, now you 
fliall fee me do it with him. 

[ Thy pretend to praftife part of a country dance. 

Ld. F. Oh, I fee there's no harm yet But I 

don't like this familiarity. [Afide. 

L. F. — Shall you and I do our clofe dance, to mew 
Mr. Brifk ? 

Ld. F. No, my dear, do it with him. 

L. F. I'll do it with him, my Lord, when you are 
out of the way. 

Brisk. That's good 'egad, that's good; deuce take me 
I can hardly hold laughing in his face. \_AJide. 

Ld. F. Any other time, my dear, or we'll dance it 

L. F. With all my heart. 

Brisk. Come, my Lord, I'll wait on you — My charm- 
ing witty angel ! [To her. 

L. F. We fhall have whifpering time enough, you 
know, fince we are partners, [Exeunt . 

Enter Lady Plyant and Carelefs. 

L.P. O Mr. Carelefs, Mr. Carelefs, I'm ruined, 
I'm undone. 

Care. What's the matter, Madam ? 

L. P. O the unluckieft accident, I'm afraid I fhan't 
live to tell it you. 

Care. Heaven forbid ! What is it ? 

L. P. I'm in fuch a fright ; the ftrangeit quandary 
and premunire ! I'm all over in an universal agitation, I 

dare fwear every circumitance of me trembles. O 

your letter, your letter ! By an unfortunate miftake, I 
have given Sir Paul your letter inftead of his own. 
Care. That was unlucky. 

L. P. O yonder he comes reading of it, for Heaven's 
fake ftep in here and advife me quickly, before he fees. 


Enter Sir Paul with the letter. 
Sir P. — O Providence, what a confpiracy have I dis- 
covered But let me fee to make an end on't— — — 

[Reads.] Hum After fupper in the wardrobe by the 

gallery. If Sir Paul fhould 'fur prize us t I have a commijio* 



from him to treat witbypu about the very matter of f aft • - 
Matter of fact ! Very pretty ; it feems, then, I am con- 
ducing to my own cuckoldom ; why this is a very trai- 
terous pofition of taking up arms by my authority againft 
my perfon ! Well, let me fee — ""Till then Ilanguifo in ex- 
feHation of my adored charmer. 

Dying Ned Carelefs, 

Gads-bud, would that were matter of facl too. Die and 
be damned for a Judas Maccabeus and Ifcariot both. O 
friendfhip, what art thou but a name ! Henceforward 
let no man make a friend that would not be a cuckold : 
for whomfoever he receives into his bofom, will find the 
way to his bed, and there return his carelTes with intereft 
to his wife. 4 Have I for this been pinioned night after 
4 night for three years paft ? Have I been fwathed in 

* blankets 'till I have been even deprived of motion ?' 
Have I approached the marriage-bed with reverence, as 
to a facred fhrine, 4 and denied myfelf the enjoyment of 

* lawful dcmeftic pleafures to preferve its purity, ' and 
mull I now find it polluted by foreign iniquity ? O my 
Lady Plyant, you werechafleas ice, but you are melted 

now, and falfe as water. But Providence has been 

conftant to me in difcovering this confpiracy ; flill I am 
beholden to Providence j if it were not for Providence, 
fure, poor Sir Paul, thy heart would break. 

Enter Lady Plyant. 

L. P. So, Sir, I fee you have read the letter — Well, 
now, Sir Paul, what do you think of your friend Care- 
lefs ? Has he been treacherous, or did you give his info- 
lence a licence to make trial of your wife's fufpecled vir- 
tue? D'ye fee here ? [Snatches the letter as in anger.] 
Look, read it ! Gad's my life, if I thought it were fo, I 
would this moment renounce all communication with 
you. Ungrateful mcniler ! He? Isitfo? Ay, I fee it, 
a plot upon my honour ; your guilty cheeks confefs it : 
Oh, where fhall wronged virtue fly for reparation ! I'll 
be divorced this mftant. 

Sir P. Gads-bud, what (hall I fay ? This is the flran- 
gefl furprize ! Why I don't know any thing at all, nor I 
don't know whether there be any thing at ail in the world, 
or no. 

i L.P. 



L. P. I thought I mould try you, falfe man. I that 
never diffembled in my life ; yet to make trial of you, 
pretended to like that monller of iniquity, Carelefs, and 
found out that contrivance to let you fee this letter ; 
which now I find was of your own inditing I do, 

Heathen, I do ; fee my face no more ; 4 I'll be divorced 
* prefently/ 

Sir P. O ftrange, what will become of me! 1 am 

fo amazed, and fo overjoyed, fo afraid, and fo forry. 
But did you give me this letter on purpofe, he r Did 
you ? 

L. P. Did I ? Do you doubt me, Turk, Saracen ? I 
have a coufin that's a proctor in the Commons, I'll go 
to him inftantly- 

Sir P. Hold, ftay, I befeech your Ladyfhip 1 am 

fo overjoyed, flay, I'll confefs all. 

L, P. What will you confefs, Jew ? 

Sir P. Why now as I hope to be faved, I had no hand 
m this letter — Nay, hear me, I befeech your Lady (hip : 
The Devil take me now if he did not go beyond my com- 

million If I delired him to do any more than fpeak a 

good word onlyjuft for me ; Gads-bud, only for poor Sir 
Paul,^I am an Anabaptift, or a Jew, or what you pleafe 
to call me. 

L. P. Why, is not here matter of fact ? 

Sir P. Ay, but by your own virtue and continency 
that matter of fact is all his own doing. — I confefs I had 
a great defire to have fome honours conferred upon me, 
which lie all in your Ladyfhip's breaft, and he being a 
well-fpoken man, I delired him to intercede for me.— 

L. P. Did you fo, Prefumption ! 4 Oh ! he comes, 
4 the Tarquin comes ; I cannot bear his fight.' [Exit, 
Enter Carelefs. 

Care. Sir Paul, I am glad I have met with you ; 'egad 

I have faid all I could, but cannot prevail Then my 

friendfhip to you has carried me a little further in this 

Sir P. Indeed Well, Sir— I'll diffemble with him 

a little. [AfiJe. 

Care. Why, faith, I have in my time known honefl: 
gentlemen abufed by a pretended coynefs in their wives, 
and I had a mind to try my Lady's virtue — And when I 



-could not prevail for you, 'egad I pretended to be in love 
myfelf — but i-ll in vain, die would not hear a word upon 
that fubject ; then I writ a letter to her ; I don't know 
what effects that will have, but I'll be fure to tell you 
when I do ; though, by this light, I believe her virtue is 

Sir P. O Providence ! Providence ! What difcoveries 
are here made ! Why, this is better and more miraculous 
than the reft. 

Care. What do you mean ? 

Sir P. I cannot tell you, I am fo overjoyed ; come 
-along with me to my Lady, I cannot contain myfelf ; 
come my dear friend. 

Care. So, fo, fo, this difficulty's over. [Afidc. 


Enter Mellefont and Malkwell from different doors. 

Mel. Mafkwell, I have been looking for you— It is 
within a quarter of eight. 

Mask. My Lady is juft gone into my Lord's clofer, 
you had bell Ileal into her chamber before (he come?, 
and lie concealed there, otherwife flie may lock the door 
when we are together, and you not eafily get in to fur- 
prize us. 

Mel. He ? You fay true. 

Mask. You had bell make hafte, for after me has made 
ibme apology to the company for her own and my 
Lord's abfence all this while, lhe'll retire to her chamber 

MeU I go this moment : Now, Fortune, I defy thee. 


Mask. I confefs you may be allowed to be fecure in 
your own opinion ; the appearance is very fair, but I 
have an after-game to play that ihall turn the tables, and 
here comes fheman thnt I muft manage. 

Enter Lord Touchwood. 

Ld. T. Malkwell, you are the man I wifhed to meet. 

Mask. I am happy to be in the way of your Lordmip's 

Ld. T. I have always found you prudent and careful 
in any thing that has concerned me or my family. 

Mask. I were a 1 villain elfe — I am bound by duty and 
F grati- 


•gratitude, and my own inclination, to be ever your 
Lordfhip's fervant. 

Ld. T. Enough You are my friend; I know it: 

Yet there has been a thing in your knowledge which has 
concerned me nearly, that you have concealed from me. 

Mask. My Lord ! 

Ld. T. Nay, I excufeyour friendfliip to my unnatural 

nephew thus far But I know you have been privy to 

his impious defigns upon my wife. This evening fhe 
has told me all : her good-nature concealed it as long as 
was poffible ; but he perfeveres fo in villainy, that lhe 
has told me even you were weary of difiuading him, tho* 
you have once actually hindered him from forcing her. 

Mask. I am forry, my Lord, I cannot make you an 
anfwer; this is an occafion in which I would not wil- 
lingly be filent. 

Ld. T. I know you would excufe him — And I know 
as well that you cannot. 

Mask, Indeed I was in hopes it had been but a youth- 
ful heat that might have foon boiled over ; but 

Ld. T. Say on. 

Mask. I have nothing more to fay, my Lord but 

to exprefs my concern ; for 1 think his frenzy increafes 

Ld. T. How ! give me but proof of it, ocular proof, 
that I may juftify my dealing with him to the world, and 
•mare my fortunes. 

Mask. O my Lord ! conftder that is hard : befides, 
time may work upon him : then, for me to do it ! I ha\c 
jprofefTed an evcrlaiting friendihip to him. 

Ld. T. He is your friend, and what am I ? 

Mask. I am anlwered. 

Ld. T.. Fear not his difp'eafure ; I will put you out of 
tiis and Fortune's power; and for that thou art fcrupu- 
loufly honeft, I will fecure thy fidelity to him, and give 
my honour never to own any difcovery that you mall 
make me. Can you give me a demonftrative proof? 

Mask. I wifh I could not To be plain, my Lord, 

% intended this evening to have tried all arguments to 
^iiTuade him from a defign, which I fulpect ; and if I had 

z not 


not fucceeded, to have informed your Lordfhip of what 
I knew. 

Ld. T. I thank you. What is the villain's purpofe ? 

Mask. He has owned nothing to me of late, and whaf 
1 mean now is Only a bare fufpicion- of my own. If your 
Lordfliip will meet me a quarter of an hour hence there* 
in that lobby by my Lady's b£d-chamber r I lhall be ablV 
to tell you more.- 

LdT. I will. 

Mask. My duty to your Lordfliip makes mc do a fe- 
vere piece of juftice. 

Ld. T. I will be fecret, and reward your honefty be- 
yond your hopes. [Exeunt 

SCENE opening, Jhcws Lady T^uchwoodi's chamber. 

Mellefont folia. 
Mel. Pray Heaven- my aunt keep touch with heraffig- 

nation. Oh, that her Lord were but fweating behind 

this hanging, with the expectation of what I fliall fee—' 
Hift, flie comes Little does fhe think what a mine ifr 
juil ready to fpring under her feet. But to my poft. 

[Goes behind the hangings,. 
Enter Lady Touchwood. 
L. T. 'Tis eight o'clock : methinks I fhould have 
found him here — Who does not prevent the hour of love,, 
outftays the time ; for to be duly punctual is too flow.— 
I was accufing you of neglect. 

Enter Mafkwell. 
Mellefont abfeonding. 
Mask. I confefs you do reproach me when I fee you 
here before me ; but 'tis fit I mould be ftill behind-hand,, 
ftill to be more and more indebted to your goodnefs. 

L. ST. You can excufe a fault too well, not to hav& 
been to blame -A ready anfwer fhews you were pre- 

Mask.. Guilt is ever at a lofs, and confulion waits up- 
on it ; when innocence and bold truth are always ready 
tor expreffion 

L. T. Not in love ; words are the weak fupport of 
eold indifference ; love has no language to be heard. 

Mask. Excefs of joy has made me ltupid ! Thus may 
my lips be ever clofed. [Kitfes her.] And thus— Oh, who 
F z would 


would not lofe his fpeech upon condition to have joys 
above it ! 

L. ST, Hold, let me lock the door firft. 

[Goes to the door. 

Mask. [Afide,} That I believed ; 'twas well I left the 
private paiTage open. 
L. T. So, that's fafe. 

Mask, And fo may all your pleafures be, and fecret as 

this kifs 

Meh And may all treachery be thus difcovered. 

[Leaps out, 

L, T. Ah ! [Shrieks. 

Mel, Villain ! {.Offers to draw. 

Mask. Nay then, there's but one way. [Runs out, 

Mel. Say you fo, were you provided for an efcape ? 
Hold, Madam, you have no more boles to your burrow, 
I ftand between you and this f.illy-port. 

L. T. Thunder ftrike thee dead for this deceit, imme- 
diate lightning blaft thee, me, and the whole world — — 
Oh ! I could rack myfelf, play the vulture to my owa 
heart, and gnaw it piece -meal, for not boding to me this 

Mtl. Be patient 

* L.T. Be damned/ 

Mel. Confider I have you on the hook ; you will but 
flounder yourfelf a weary, and be neverthelefs my pii- 

/,. T. I'll hold my breath and die, but I'll be free. 

Mel. O Madam, have a care of dying unprepared, I 
doubt thnt you have fome unrepented fins that may hang, 
heavy, and retard your flight. 

L.T. Oh! what mail I do? fay? Whither mall I 
turn ? Has Hell no remedy ? 

Mel. None. Hell has ferved you even as Heaven has 
clone, left you to yourfelf. — You are in a kind of Eraf- 
nius Paradife ; yet if you pleafe, you may make it a 
purgatory ; and with a little penance and my abfolution, 
all this may turn to a good account. 

L. T. [4/ide.] Hold in my pailion, and fall, fall a little, 
thou fwelling heart ; let me have fome intermillion of 
this rage, and one minute's coolnefs todhTemble. 

[She weeps, 


Mel. You have been to blame 1 like thofe tears,. 

and hope they are of the purei.1 kind — Penitential tears. 

L. T. O, the fcene was mined quick before me — I fc had 

not time to think 1 was furprized to fee a monfter in 

theglafs, and now I find 'tis myfelf: Can you have mer-- 
cy to forgive the faults I have imagined, but never put 

iu practice O confider, confider how fatal you have 

been to me, i you have already killed the quiet of this 
' lire.' The love of you was the firft wandering fit e thar 
e'er mifled my fleps, and while I had only that in view,. 
I was betrayed into unthought-of ways of rum. 

Mel. May I believe this- true ? 

L. T. O be not cruelly incredulous How can you; 

doubt thefe ftreaming eyes? Keep the feverefteye over 
all my future conduct, and if I once relapfe, let me not: 
hope forgivenefs, 'twill ever be in your power to ruin me- 
— My Lord (hall fign to your defires ; I will myfelf ere-- 
ate your happinefs, ana Cynrhia fhall be this night your 
bride — Do but conceal my failings-, and forgive. 

Mel. Upon fuch terms, Twill be ever yours in every 
honeft way.,. 

MaikweW/offh) introduces Lord Touchwood, and retires. 

Mask. I have kept my, word, he is here, but I muri- 
ne t be feen. 

Ld~.T. Hell and amazement ! She is in tears. 

Ii.T. {Kneeling.^ Eternal hleffi'ngs thank you — Ha ! 
My Lord lifteningj O, Fortune-has o'erpaid me aft, all f 
all's my own ! [j4/ide.. 

Mel. Nay, I beleeeh you rife. 

L. T. [Abud.] Never, never ! I'll grow to the- 
ground, be buried quick, beneath it, ere I'll be confent— 
ing to fo damned a fin as inceft !' unnaturarinceft ! 

Mei: Ha ! 

L. T. O cruel man, will you not let me go — I'll for- 
give all that's paft — O Heaven, you wilLnot ravifli me ! 
Mel. Damnation ! 

Ld. T. Monfter ! Dog .' your life fhail anfwer this — 
[Draws and runs at Mel. is held by Lady Touchwood. 
L. T. O. Heavens, my Lord ! Hold, hold, for Hea- 
ven's fake. 

Mel, Confufion, my uncle ! O, the damned forcerefs. 

F 3 l. t;. 


L. T. Moderate your rage, good my Lord ! He's mad, 
alas, he's mad — Indeed he is my Lord, and knows not 
what he does See how wild he looks. 

Mel. By Heaven, 'twere fenfelefs net to be mad, and 
fee fuch witchcraft. 

L. T. My Lord, you hear him, he talks idly. 

Ld. T. Hence from my fight, thou living infamy to my 
name : when next I lee that face, I'll write villain in it 
with my fword's point. 

Mel, Now, by my foul, I will not go 'till I have made 

known my wrongs Nay, 'till 1 have made known 

yours, which (if poffible) are greater — though fhe has 
ail the hoft of Hell her fervants. 

L. ST. Alas, he raves ! * Talks very poetry.' For 
Heaven's fake away my Lord, he'll either tempt you to 
extravagance, or commit fome himfelf. 

Mel. Death and furies, will you not hear me — Why, 
by Heaven fhe laughs, grins, points to your back ; fhe 
forks out cuckoldom with her fingers, and you are run- 
ning horn-mad after your fortune. 

[As Jhe is going foe turns hack and /miles at him, 

Ld. T, 1 fear he's mad indeed — Let's lend Mafkwell to 

Mel, Send him to her. 

' L. T. Come, come, good my Lord, my heart achs 

* fo, I {hall faint if I Hay/ [Exeunt Ld. and L. T. 
Mel. Oh, I could curfe my flars, fate, and chance ; all 

caufes and accidents of" fortune in this life! But to what 
purpofe r 4 Yet, 'fdeath, for a man to have the fruit of 

* all his induffry grow full and ripe, ready to drop into 
4 his mouth, and juft when he holds out his hand to ga- 

* ther it, to have" a fudden whirlwind come, tear up tree 
4 and all, and bear away the very root and foundation of 

* his hopes; What temper can contain ?' They talk of 
fending Mafkwell to me ; I never had more need of him 

But what can he do ? Imagination cannot form a 
fairer and more plaufible defign than this of his which 

has mifcarried O my precious aunt ! I fliall never 

thrive without I deal with the devil, or another woman. 
4 Women, like flames, have a deflroying pow'r, 
* Ne'er to be quench'd 'till they themfelves devour. 1 ' 


End of the Fourth Act. 




Enter Lady Touchwood and Maikwell. 

Lady Touchwood, 

WAS it not lucky ? 
Mask. Lucky ! Fortune is your own, and 'tis 
her intereft fo to be; by Heaven I believe you can con- 
troul her power, and fhe fears it; though chance brought 
my Lord, 'twas your own art that turned it to advan- 

L. T. 'Tis true, it might have been my ruin But 

yonder*s my Lord, I believe he is coming to find you, 
I'll not be Teen. [Exiti 

Mask. So; I durft not own my introducing my Lord, 
though it fucceeded well for her, ror (he would have fuf- 
pecled a defign which I mould have been puzzled to ex- 
cuie. My Lord is thoughtful — I'll be ib too ; yet he 
mall know my thoughts ; or think he does ■ . ■ 

Enter Lord Touchwood. 
What have I done ? 

Ld~T. Talking to himfelf! 

Mask. 'Twas honeft— and lhall I be rewarded for it }' 
No, 'twas honell, therefore I fliall not : — Nay, rather 
therefore I ought not ; for it rewards itfelf. 

Ld.T. Unequalled virtue ! \_A/ide. 

Mask. But fnould it be known ! then I have loll a. 
friend ! He was an ill man, and I have gained; for half 
myfelf I lent him, and that I have recalled ; fo I have 
lerved myfelf, and what is yet better, 1 have ferved a 
worthy Lord, to whom I owe myfelf. 

Ld. T. Excellent man ! [Afide. 

Mask. Yet I am wretched — O, there is a fecret burns 
within this bread, which, mould it once blaze forth, 
would ruin all, confume my honed character, and brand 
me with the name of villain. 

Ld. T. Ha ! 

Mask. Why do I love ! Yet Heaven and my waking 
confeience are my witnefTes, I never gave one working 
thought a vent, which might difcover that I loved, nor 
ever muft ; no, let it prey upon my heart ; for I would 
rather die than feem once, barely feem, once dilhoneft : — • 

O, mould 



O, (hould it once be known I love fair Cynthia, all this 
that I have done would look like rival's malice, falie 
friendfhip to my Lord, and bafe felf-intereft. Let me 
perifh firft, and from this hour avoid all fight and fpeech, 
and, if I can, all thought of that pernicious beauty. 
Ha ! but what is my diftraction doing ? I am wildly talk- 
ing to myfelf, and fome ill chance might have directed 
malicious ears this way. [Seems to Jiart y feeing my Lord, 

Ld. T. Start not let guilty and difhoneft fouls Hart 

at the revelation of their thoughts, but be thou fixed, as 
is thy virtue. 

Mask. I am confounded, and beg your Lordfhip's par- 
don for thofe free difcourfes which I have had with my- 

Ld. T. Come, I beg your pardon that I over-heard 
you, and yet it ihall not need — Honeit Malkweii ! Thy 
and my good geniusled me hither — Mine, in that I have 
difcovered fo much manly virtue ; thine, in that thou, 
flialt have due reward of all thy worth. Give me thy 

hand my nephew is the alone remaining branch of 

all our ancient family ; him I thus blow away, and con- 
Ititute thee in his room to be my heir 

Mask. Now Heaven forbid -» 

Ld. T. No more 1 have refolded The writings- 
are ready drawn, and wanted nothing. but to be figned, 
and have his name inferted — Yours will fill the blank as 

well 1 will have no reply Let me command this 

time,- for 'tis the laft in which I will aflame authority — 
hereafter you mail rule where I have power. 

Mask. I humbly would petition 

Ld. T. Is it for yourfelf? [Mafk. ftaufes.] I'll hear of 
nought for any body elfe. 

Mask*. Then witnefs Heaven for me, this, wealth and 
honour was not of my feeking, nor would. I build my 
fortune on another's ruin : I had but one delire 

LdT. Thou fhalt enjoy it. If all I am worth in 

wealth or interetl can purchafe Cynthia, {he is- thine. 

I am fure Sir Paul's confent will follow fortune ; I will 
quickly fhew him which way that is going. 

Mask. You.opprefs me with bounty ; my gratitude is. 
weak, and (hrinks beneath the weight, and cannot rife 

to thank you What, enjoy my love! Forgive the 



tranfports of a bleffing fo unexpected, fo unhoped foiy 
fo unthought of ! 

Ld. T. I will confirm it, and rejoice with thee. 

[ Exit, 

Mask. This is prcfperous indeed ! — Why, let him find 
me out a villain, fettled in poffeilion of a fair eftate, and 
full fruition of my love, I'll bear the railings of a lofing 
gamefter — But mould he find me out before ! — 'tis dan- 
gerous to delay — Let me think Should my Lord 

proceed to treat openly of my marriage with Cynthia, 
all mud be difcovered, and Mellefont can be no longer 
blinded. — It muft not be; nay, fhould my Lady know 

it Ay, then were fine work indeed ! Her fury would 

fpare nothing, though (he involved herfelf in ruin. No, 

it muft be by ftratagem I muft deceive Mellefont 

once more, and get my Lord to confent to my private 

management. He comes opportunely Now will 

I, in my old way, difcover the whole and real truth of 
the matter to him, that he may not fufpeel one word 

No made like open truth to cover lies, 
As to go naked is the be ft difguife. 

Enter Mellefont. 
Mel. O, Mafkwell, what hopes ? I am confounded in 
a maze of thoughts, each leading into another, and all 
ending in perplexity. My uncle will not fee nor hear 

Mask. No matter, Sir, don't trouble your head, all is 
to my power. 

Mel. How, for Heaven's fake ? 

Mask. Little do you think that your aunt has kept her 

word How the devil ft.e wrought my Lord into this 

dotage I know not ; but he is gone to Sir Paul about my 
marriage with Cynthia, and has appointed me his heir. 

Mel. The devil he has ! What's to be done? 

Mask. I have it, it muft be by ftratagem ; for it is in 
vain to make application to him. I think I have that in 
my head which cannot fail. Where is Cynthia ? 

Mfl. In the garden. 

Mask. Let us go and confult her My life for yours, 
I cheat my Lord. [Exeunt. 



Enter Lord and Lady Touchwood. 

L.T. Maikvvell your heir, and marry Cynihia ! 

Ld. T. I cannot do too much for fo much merit. 

L. T. But this is a thing of too great moment to be fo 
fuddenly refolved- Why Cynthia ? Why muft he be 
married ? Is there not reward enough in railing his low- 
fortune, but he mufl mix his blood with mine, and wed 
my niece ? How know you that my brother will confenr, 
or (lie ? Nay, he himfelf perhaps may have affections 

Ld. T. No, I am convinced he loves her. 

L. T. Malkwell love Cynthia, impoffible ! 

Ld. T. I tell you, he contended it tome. 

L. T. Confufion ! How is this I \_AJu!e. 

Ld. T. His humility long ftifkd his paflion ; and his 
love of Mellefont would have made him Hill conceal it : 
but by encouragement I wrung thefecret from him, and 
know he is no way to be rewarded but in her. I will de- 
fer my farther proceedings 'till you have confiderecr 
it : but remember how we are both indebted to him. 

L. T. Both indebted to him ! Yes, we are both in- 
debted to him, if you knew all, 4 villain ! * Oh, 1 am 
wild with this furprize of treachery : it is impoiiible, it 
cannot be He love Cynthia ! 4 What, have I been 

* bawd to his defigns I* his property only, 4 a baiting- 
' place ! Now I fee what made him falfe to Mellefont — - 
6 Shame and di (traction ! I cannot bear it, Oh ! What 
' woman can bear to be a property ? To be kindled to a 
4 flame, only to light him to another's arms : Oh ! that 

* I were fire indeed, that I might burn the vile traitor/ 

What fhall I do? How (hall I think ? I cannot think • 

All my defigns are loft, my love unfated, my revenge 
unfinimed, and frefli caufe of fury from unthought-of 

Enter Sir Paul. 
Sir P. Madam, fitter, ray Lady filler, did you fee 
ray Lady, my wife ? 
L. T. Oh ! Torture ! 

SirP, Gads-bud, I cannot find her high nor low; 
Where can (he be, think you ? 
L., T* Where (lie is ferving you as all your fex ought 


so be ferved ; making you a beaft. Don't you know that 
you are a fool, brother ? 

Sir P. A fool ; he, he, he, you are merry — No, no, 
not I, I know no fuch matter. 

L. T. Why then you don't know lialf your hcippinefs. 

Sir P. That's a jeft with all my heart, faith and troth 
—But hark ye, my Lord told me fomething of a revo- 
lution of things ; I don't know what tomakeon't — 

Gads-bud I muft confult my wife He talks of dis- 
heriting his nephew, and I don't know what Look 

you, filler, I muft know what my girl has to trull to; 
or not a fyllable of a wedding, Gads-bud 'to (hew you 
that I am not a fool. 

L. T. Hear me ; confent to the breaking off this mar- 
riage, and the promoting any other, without confulting 
me, and I will renounce all blood, all relation and cok- 

cern with you for ever Nay, I'll be your enemy, and 

pui fue you to dettructlon ; I'll tear your eyes out, and 
tread you under my feet. 

Sir P. Why, what's the matter now ? Good Lord, 

what's all this for ? Fooh, here's a joke indeed Why, 

wbere's my wife ? 

JL. T. With Carelefs, in the clofe arbour; he may" 
want you by this time, as much as you want her. 

Sir P. Oh, if fhe be with Mr. Carelefs, 'tis well 

L. T. Fool, fot, infenfible ox ! But remember what I 
faid to you, or you had better eat your own horns, by 
this light you had. 

Sir P. You are a pafiionate woman, Gads-bud 

But to fay truth, all our family are choleric ; I am the 
only peaceable perfon amongft them. [Exeunt., 
Enter Mellefont, Mafkwell, and Cynthia. 

Mel. I know no other way but this he has propofed.; 
if you have love enough to run the venture. 

Cyn. I don't know whether I have love enough—— 
but I find I have obftinacy enough to purfue whatever I 
have once refolved; and a true female courage to oppofe 
any thing that refills my will, though it were reafon it- 

Mask. That's right Well, I'll fecuie the writings, 

and run the hazard along with you. 



Cyn. But how can the coach and fix horfes begot ready 
without fufpicion ? 

Mask. Leave it to my care ; that {ball be fo far from 
being fufpecled, that it mall be got ready by my Lord's 
own order. 

Mel. How? 

Mask. Why, I intend to tell my Lord the whole mat- 
ter of our contrivance, that's my way. 
Mel. I do not underltand you. 

Mask. Why, I'll tell my Lord I laid this plot with 
you on purpofe to betray you ; and that which put me 
upon it, was the finding it impoffible to gain the lady any 
other way, but in the hopes of her marrying you. 

Mel. So. 

Mask. So, why fo, while you are buried in making 
yourfelf ready, I'll wheedle her into the coach ; and id- 
lleadofyou, borrow my Lord's chaplain, and fo run 
away with her myfelf. 

Mel. O, I conceive you, you'll tell him fo. 

Mask. Tell him fo 1 Ay, why, you don't think I mean 
to do fo. 

Md. No. no ; ha, ha, I dare fwear thou wilt not. 

Mask. Therefore, for our farther fecurity I would 
have you difguifed like a parfon, that if my Lord fliould 
have curiofky to peep, he may not difcover you in the 
coach, but think the cheat is carried on as he would have 

Mcl. Excellent Mafkwell ! thou wert certainly meant 

for a ilatefman or a Jeiuit but thou art too hondt 

for one, and too pious for the other. 

Mask. Wei), get yourfelves ready, and meet me in j 
half an hour yonder in my Lady's dreffing-room ; go by 
the back-ftairs, and fo we may flip down without being 

obferved — I 'ii fend the chaplain to you with his robes ; j 

I have made him my own — and ordered him to meet us 
to- morrow morning at St. Albans ; there we will fum up 
this account to all our fatis factions. 

Mel. bhould I begin to thank or praife thee, I mould 
wafte the little time we have. [Exit* 

Mask. Madam, you will be ready. 

Cyn, I will bepundual to the minute. [Going*. 



Mask. Stay, I have a doubt—Upon fecond thoughts, 
we had better meet in the chaplain's chamber here, the 
corner chamber at this end of the gallery ; there is a 
back way into it, fo that you need not come through this 

door and a pair of private ltairs leading down to the 

llables It will be more convenient. 

Cyn. I am guided by you— but Mellefont will mi flake. 

Mask. No, no, I'll after him immediately, and tell 

Cyn. I will not fail. [Exit, 

Mask. Why, qui <vult declpi decipiatur. — Tis no fault 
of mine, I have told them in plain terms how eafy it is 
for me to cheat them ; and if they will not hear the fer- 
pent's hifs, they muft be flung into experience and fu- 
ture caution. Now to prepare my Lord to confent to 

this. -2 But firft I muft inftrucl: my little Levite ; 

there is no plot, public or private, that can expect to 
profper without one of them has a finger in it ; he pro- 
mifed me to be within at this hour— Mr. Saygrace, Mr. 
Saygrace. {Goes to the chamber door, and knocks. 

[Mr. Saygrace looking out.'] Sweet Sir, I will but pen 
the laft line of an acroftick, and be with you in the 
twinkling of an ejaculation, in the pronouncing of an 
Amen, or before you can— — 

Mask. Nay, good Mr. Saygrace, do not prolong the 
time by defcribing to me the fhortnefs of your (lay ; ra- 
ther, if you pleafe, defer the nniniing of your wir, and 
let us talk about our bufinefs ; it fliatl be tithes in your 

"Enter Saygrace. 

Sayg. Tou mail prevail ; I would break off in the mid- 
dle of a fermon to do you a pleafui e. 

Mask. You could not do me a greater—except 

the bufinefs in hand Have you provided a habit for 

Mellefont ? 

Sayg. I have ; they are ready in my chamber, toge- 
ther with a clean ftarched band and cuffs. 

Mask. Good : let them be carried to him— Have you 
Pitched the gown-iieeve, that he may be puzzled, and 
wafte time in putting it on ? 

Sayg. I have; the gown will not be indued without 

G- Mash 


Mask. Meet me in half an hour, here in your own 
chamber. When Cynthia comes, let there be no light ; 
and do not fpeak, that (he may not diftinguifh you from 
Mellefont. Til urge hafte to excufeyour lilence. 

Sayg. You have no more commands ? 

Mask. None, your text is ftiort. 

Sayg. But pithy, and I will handle it with difcretion. 

Mask. It will be the firft you have fo ferved. {Exeunt, 
Enter Lord Touchwood and Malkwell. 

Ld. T. Sure I was born to be controuled by thofe I 
mould command : my very flaves will fliortly give me 
rules how 1 mall govern them. 

Mask. I am concerned to fee your Lordfliip difcom- 

Ld. T. Have you feen my wife lately, or difobliged 
her ? 

Mask. No, my Lord. What can this mean ? 


Ld. T. Then Mellefont has urged fomebody to incenfe 

her Something (he has heard of* you, which carries 

her beyond the bounds of patience. 

Mask. This I feared. [A/idc.] Did not your Lordfliip 
tell her of the honours you defigned me ? 

Ld. T. Yes. 

Mask. 'Tis that ; you know my Lady has a high fpi- 
rir, flie thinks I am unworthy. 

Ld. T. Unworthy ! 'Tis an ignorant pride in her to 
think lb Honeity to me is true nobility. Howe- 
ver, 'tis my will it mall be fo, and that mould be con- 
vincing to her as much as reafon— — By Heaven, I'll 
net be wife-ridden ! Were it poflible, it ftiould be done 
this night. 

Mask. By Heaven he meets my willies ! [Afide.] Few 
things are impoffible to willing minds. 

Ld. T. Inftruct me how this may be done, you fliall 
fee I want no inclination. 

Mask. I had laid a fmall defign for to-morrow (as love 
will be inventing) which I thought to communicate to 
your Lordfliip But it may be as well done to-night. 

Ld, T. Here is company Come this way, and tell 

me. [Exeunt. 

4 Enter 


Enter Carelefs and Cynthia, 
Care. Is not that he, now gone out with my Lord ? 
Cyn. Yes. 

Care. By Heaven there's treachery The confufion 

that I faw your father in, my Lady Touchwood's paffion, 
with what imperfectly I overheard between my Lord and 
her, confirm me in my fears, Where's Melleiont ? 

Cyn. Here he comes. 

Enter Mellefont. 

Did Malkwell tell you any thing of the chaplain's 

chamber ? 

Mel. No ; my dear, will you get ready ? — The things 
are all in my chamber ; I want nothing but the habit. 

Care. You are betrayed, and Malkwell is the villain I 
always thought him. 

Cyn. When you were gone, he faid his mind was 
changed, and bid me meet him in the chaplain's room, 
pretending immediately to follow you, and give you no- 

Care. There's Saygrace tripping by with a bundle un- 
der his arm— He cannot be ignorant that Malkwell means 
to ufe his chamber; let's follow and examine him. 
MeU 'Tis lois of time 1 cannot think hitn falfe, 

[Exeunt Mel. and Care* 
Enter Lerd Touchwood. 
Cyn. My Lord mufing ! 

Ld. T. He has a quick invention, if this were Sud- 
denly defigned— Yet he fays he had prepared my chap- 
lain already. 

Cyn. How is this ! Now I fear, indeed. 

Ld. T. Cynthia here ! Alone, fair coufin, and me- 
lancholy ? 

Cyn. YourlLordftiip was thoughtful. 

Ld. T. My thoughts were on ferious bufinefs, not 
worth your hearing. 

Cyn, Mine were on treachery concerning you, and 
may be worth your hearing. 

Ld. T. Treachery concerning me ! Pray, be plain- 
Hark ! Whatnoife! 

Mask. [Within.} Will you not hear me ? 

Lady T. [Within.] No, monfter ! Traitor ! No. 

G z Cyn* 


Cyn. My Lady and Mafkwell ! This may be lucky-— 
My Lord, let me intreat you to ftand behind this fcreen, 
and liften ; perhaps this chance may give you proof of 
what you never could have believed from my fufpicions. 
Muter Lady Touchwood, with a dagger^ and Malkwe;! : 
Cynthia and Lord Touchwood alfcond, lifiening. 

L. 71 You want but leifure to invent rrefli fallhood, 
and footh me to a fond belief of all your fictions ; but I 
will flab the lie that's forming in your heart, and lave a 
tn in pity to your foul. 

Mask, Strike then fince you will have it fo. 

JL. T. Ha ! a fteady villain to the laft ! 

Mask* Come, why do you dally wirh me thus ? 

* L.T. Thy ftubborn temper (hocks me, and you 

* know it would This is cunning all, and not ».c t- 

* rage ; no, I know thee well But thou (halt mlu 

* thy aim.' 

Mask. Ha, ha, ha. 

L. T. Ha ! Do you mock my rage ? Then this mail 
pQttifh your fond, ram contempt ! Again (mile I 


And fuch a fmile as fpeaks in ambiguity ! 
Ten thoufand meanings lurk in each corner of that va- 
rious face. 

O ! that they were written in thy heart, 

That I, with this, might lay thee open to my fight ! 

But then 'twill be too late to know 

Thou hair, thou haft found the only way to turn my 
rage ; too well thou knoweft my jealous foul could never 

bear uncertainty. Speak then, and tell me Yet are 

you filent ? Oh, I am wildered in all paffions ! But thus 
my anger melts. \Weeps.~\ Here, take this poniard, for 
my very fpirits faint, and I want ftrength to hold it, 
thou haft difarmed my foul. [Gives the dagger, 

Ld. T. Amazement makes me— Where will this end ? 

Mask. So 'tis well— let your wild fury have a vent, 
and when you have temper, tell me. 

T, Now, now, now I am calm, and can hear you. 

Mask. [JJde.'] Thanks, my invention : and now I have 
it for you.— Firft tell me, what urged you to this vio- 
lence r For your paffion broke out in fuch imperfeft 
terms, that yet I am to learn the caufe. 


L* T. My Lord himfelf furprized me with the news, 
you were to marry Cynthia — .That you had owned your 
love to him, and his indulgence would affift you to attain 
your ends. 

Cyn, How, my Lord ! 

Ld. 7*. Pray forbear all refentments for a while, and 
let us hear the reft. 

Mask, I grant you in appearance all is true ; I feemed 
confenting to my Lord ; nay, tranfported with the blef- 
fing But could you think that I, who had been hap- 
py in your loved embraces, could e'er be fond of infe- 
rior flavery ? 

Cy?i. Nay, good my Lord, forbear refentment, let us 
hear it out. 

Ld. T, Yes, I will contain, though I could burft. 

Mask. I that had wantoned in the rich circle of your 
world of love, could be confined within the puny pro* 
vince of a girl ? No Yet tho' I dote on each laft fa- 
vour more than all the reft, though I would give a limb* 
for every look you cheaply throw away on any other ob- 
ject of your love ; v yet fo far I prize your pleafures o'er 
my own, that all this feeming plot that I have laid, ha* 
been to gratify your tafte, and cheat the world, to prove 
a faithful rogue to you. 

L. T. If this were true But how can it be ? 

Mask. I have fo contrived, that Mellefont will prefent- 
ly, in the chaplain's habit, wait for Cynthia in your 
dreffing-room : but I have put the change upon her, that 
fhe may be otherwhere employed — Do you procure her 
night-gown, and with your hoods tied over your face, 
meet him in her Head ; you may go privately by the 
back-ftaifs, and, unperceived, there you may propofeto 
reinftate him in his uncle's favour, if he will comply 
with your defires ; his cafe is defperate, and I believe 

he'll yield to any conditions If not, here, take this ; 

you may employ it better than in the heart of one who is 
nothing when not yours. [Gives the dagger* 

L. T. Thou canft deceive every body Nay, thou 

haft deceived me ; but 'tis as I would wim Trufty 

villain ! I could worfhip thee. ■ ■ ■ 

Mask. No more it wants but a few minutes of the 

time ; and Mellefont's love will carry him there before 
his hour, 

G 5 


7. I go, I fly, incomparable Mafkwell ! [Exh. 
Mask. So, this was a pinch indeed ; my invention was 
upon the rack, and made difcovery of her lair plot: I 
hope Cynthia and my chaplain will be ready. I'll pre- 
pare for the expedition. [Exit, 
Cynthia and Lord Touchwood come forward. 
Cyn. Now, my Lord ! 

Ld. T. Altoniilmient binds up my rage ! Villainy up- 
on villainy ! Heavens, what a long track of dark deceit 
has this difcovered ! I am confounded when I look back, 
and want a clue to guide me through the various mazes 
of unheard-of treachery. My wife ! Damnation ! My 

Cyn. My Lord, have patience, and be fenfible how 
great our happinefs is, that this difcovery was not made 
too late. _ ^ 

Ld. T. I thank you, yet it maybe ftill too late, if we 
don't prefently prevent the execution of their plots :— . 
Ha ! I'll do it. Where is Mellefont, my poor injured 
nephew ? How fliall I make him ample iatisfaction ? 

Cvn. I dare awfwer for him. 

Ld. T. I do him freflr wrong to queftion his forgive- 

rtefs, for I know him to be all good nefs Yet my 

wife ! Damn her She'll think to meet him in that 

drefling-room — Was't not fo ? And Mafkwell will expect 

you in the chaplain's chamber For once 1*11 add my 

plot too-— — let us haile to find out, and inform my ne- 
phew; and do you, quickly as you can, bring all the 
company into this gallery. — I'll expofe the ftrumpet and 
the villain. [Exeunt, 
Enter Lord Froth and Sir Paul. 

Ld. F. By Heavens, I have flept an age — Sir Paul, 
What o'clock is it ? Part eight, on my confcience, my 
Lady's is the mofl inviting couch, and a {lumber there is 
the prettieft amuiement ! But where is all the company ? 

Sir P. The company, Gad's-bud, I don't know, my 
Lord ; but here's the itrangelt. revolution, all turned 
topfy-turvy, as I hope for Providence. 

Ld. F. O Heavens ! What's the matter > Where is 
my wife ? 

Sir P. All turned topfy-turvy, as fure as a gun. 
Ld. F. How do you mean ? My wife ! 

Sin P. 


Sir P. The ftrangeft pofture of affairs ! 
Ld. F. What, my wife ? 

Sir P. No, no, I mean the family. Your Lady's af- 
fairs may be in a very good poiture ; I faw her go into 
the garden with Mr. Brilk. 

Ld. F. How ? Where, when, what to do ? 

Sir P, I fuppofe they have been laying their heads 

Ld. F. How ? 

Br Pt Nay, only about poetry, I fuppofe, my Lord ; 
making couplets. 

Ld. F. Couplets. 

Sir P* O, here they come. 

Enter Lady Froth and Brifk. 

Brisk. My Lord, your humble fervant ; Sir Paul, 
yours -The fineft night I 

L. F. My dear, Mr. Brilk and I have been flar-ga- 
zing I don't know h9vv long. 

Sir P. Does it not tire your Ladylhip ? Are not you 
weary with looking up ? 

L. F. Oh, no ! I love it violently -My dear, 

you are melancholy. 

Ld. F. No, my dear, I am but jull awake 

L. F. Snuff fome of my fpirit of hartfhorn. 

JUL F. I have fome of my own, thank you, my dear. 

L.F. Well, I fvvear, Mr. Brilk, you underilood 
aftronomy like an old Egyptian. 

Brisk. Not comparably to your Lady (hi p ; you are 
the very Cynthia of the fttes, and queen of liars. 

L. F. That's becaufe I have no light, but what's by 
reflexion from you, who are the fun. 

Brisk. Madam, you have eclipfed me quite, let me 
perifh 1 cannot anfwer that. 

L.F. No matter Harkee, mall you and I make 

an almanack together ? 

Brisk. With all my foul,— Your Ladyfliip has 
made me the man in it already, I am ib full of the 
wounds which you have given. 

L. F. O, finely taken ! I fwear now you are even with 
rnr; O ParnalTus, you have an infinite deal of wit. 

Sir P. So he has, Gads-bud, and fo has your Lady- 



Enter Lady Plyant, Carelefs, and Cynthia. 

L. P. You tell me moft furprizing things ; blefs me, 
who would ever truft a man ? O, my heart achs for fear 
they mould be all deceitful alike. 

Care. You need not fear, Madam, you have charms 
to fix inconftancy itfelf. 

L. P. O dear, you make me blufh. 

Ld. F. Come, my dear, mall we lake leave of my 
Lord and Lady ? 

Cyn. They'll wait upon your Lordfhip prefently; 

L. F. Mr. Brifk, my coach mall fet you down. 

AIL What's the matter ? 

[A great Jbriek from the corner of the fage. 
Enter Lady Touchwood, and runs out affrighted, my Lord 
after her, like a parfon. 

L. T. O, I'm betrayed Save me, help me ! 

Ld, T. Now what evafion, (trumpet ? 

JL. T. Stand off, let me go. 

Ld. T. Go, and thy own infamy purfue thee-— You 
fkre as you were all amazed I do not wonder at it, 

But too foon you'll know mine, and that woman's 


JEnter Mellefont, difguifed in a parfon's habit, and pul- 
ling in Mafkwell. 

Mel. Nay, by Heaven you fhall be feen Carelefs, 

your hand — Do you hold down your head ? Yes, I am 
your chaplain ; look in the face of your injured friend, 
thou wonder of all falfhood. 

Ld. T. Are you filent, monller ? 

Mel. Good Heavens ! How I believed and loved this 
man !— Take him hence, for he is a difeafe to my fight. 

Ld. T. Secure that manifold villain. 

[Servants feize him* 

Care. Miracle of ingratitude ! 

Brisk. This is all very furprizing, letmeperifli. 

L. F. You know I told you Saturn looked a little more 
angry than ufual. 

Ld. ST. We'll think of punifhment at leifure, but let 
me haften to do juftice, in rewarding virtue and wronged 

innocence. Nephew, I hope I have your pardon, 

and Cynthia's. 

Mel. We are your Lordfhip's creatures. 

Ld. r. 


Ld* T. And be each other's eomfort : — Let me join 

your hands Unwearied nights, and wifliing days 

attend you both ; mutual love, lafling health, and cir- 
cling joys, tread round each happy year of your long 

Let fecret villainy from hence be warn'd ; 
Howe'er in private mifchiefs are conceiv'd, 
Torture and fhame attend their open birth : 
Like vipers in the womb, bafe treachery lies n 
Still gnawing that whence firfl it did arile ; i 
No fooner born, but the vile parent dies, J 


End of the Fifth Act, 

£ ? i 

( *2 ) 


f^OVLJy poets but forefee bow plays would take t 

Then they could tell what epilogues to make ; 
JVhetber to thank or blatne their audience mof : 
But that late knowledge does much hazard cofl, 
'Till dice are thrown, there's nothing won 9 nor l<]ft 
So > till the thie f has ftol'n, he cannot know 
IVljether hejhall efcape the law* or no. 
But poets run much greater hazards far 9 
Than they who Jl and their trials at the bar ; 
The law provides a curb for its own fury, 
Andfuffers judges to direfi the jury. 
But in this court, what difference does appear ! 
For every one's both judge and jury here ; 
Nay, and what's worfe, an executioner. 
All have a right and title to fome part, 
Each choojing that in which he has mojl art* 
The dreadful men of learning all confound*, 
Tlnlefs the fable's good 9 and moral found. 
The vizor -mq/ks that are in pit and gallery % 
Approve or damn the repartee and raillery. 
The lady critics, who are better ready 
Inquire if characters are nicely bred ; 
If the foft things are penn'd and fpoke with grace ! 
They judge of aftion too, and time, and place ; 
In which we do not doubt but they're difcerning. 
For that's a kind of ajjignation learning. 
Beaus judge of drefs ; the witlings judge of fongs % 
The cuckoldom, of ancient right, to Cits belongs* 
Thus poor poets the favour are deny , d, 
Even to make exceptions, when they're try'd. 
9 Tis hard that the\ mujl every one admit ; 
Me thinks I fee fome faces in the pit* 
Which mujl of confequence be foes to wit* 
You who can judge, to fentence may proceed ; 
But tho' he cannot write, let him be freed, 
At leafi) from their contempt who cannot read* 

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